Bless the Broken Road
by angelswatchingover
Summary: Dean is thrilled to be the best man at Sam's wedding, but Jess has insisted they take dance lessons for the reception. But when Dean meets the dance instructor, Castiel, his world gets turned upside down. These broken ex-soldiers embark on a project that will help them heal from the wounds of war. It's a story of overcoming trauma, finding love, and facing fears set to great music.
1. It's All Coming Back to me - Meat Loaf

**Authors Note 9/10/13**: Story followers, I am so sorry about the update spam. I wanted to update one chapter for a gramattical error and learned the hard way that I can't reload a chapter and change the order the way I can with Archiveofourown. So now I am having to reload all of the chapters after 7. Again, no new content was added to this story, just make a few wording and grammar corrections.

* * *

"Are you kidding me? Sammy, that's… not gonna happen!" exclaimed Dean.

"Come on, Dean. It's not like I want to do this any more than you, but I have to do it and I need backup," huffed Sam. "Of all of the terrifying things you have faced, I can't believe this is the one you are going to let get in your way."

"Bullets, knives and bad guys I can handle, but this? No way!"

"Didn't you tell me once that Swayze gets a pass? Think of it like Swayze."

"I was talking about Roadhouse Swayze, not, not … this!"

"What if I told you Pamela is the instructor?"

"Pamela Barnes? Like, seriously hot Jessie Forever tramp stamp chick from the gym Pamela?"

"That's the one," Sam smirked, knowing his brother well enough that a pretty girl might just be incentive he needed.

Dean sighed. He remembered Pamela from the last time they had met. She was gorgeous, exactly his type. He could picture her big blue eyes, dark hair and beautiful smile. She was flirty and funny and had excellent taste in music if her endless supply of tight fitting concert shirts meant anything. His face began to take on that dreamy look that it did when he was remembering her last week in that cutoff Ramones… "Well?" Sam interrupted his daydream.

"Fine, but you owe me big! Why does Jess want to do this anyway?" Dean resigned himself to, of all things, dance lessons for his little brother's wedding.

"I guess she wants the first dance at the reception to look like we can actually, I don't know, dance. I don't really blame her, we both have zero experience with this and I don't want to look ridiculous. The way we grew up, travelling from town to town all the time, I don't think either one of us has ever even attended a school dance. I really want to do this for her so buck up, big brother, because you are going to come along and help me get through this."

"OK, OK. But I'm not doing it for you, I am doing it for the girls! Speaking of which, who am I going to have to dance with?"

"You are paired up with Jess' friend, Charlie."

"You think Charlie has any more of a clue about this crap than I do? Shit, Sam, you are going to make me completely embarrass myself."

"You don't need my help to do that, Dean. You manage that all on your own." Sam smirked.

"Bitch," was Dean's standard reply when he realized he was giving in to his little brother.

"Jerk."

Dean huffed a laugh at his brother as he hung up the phone. He never could say no to that kid. The things he wouldn't do for Sam. The things he had already done for Sam! Dean had sacrificed everything for his little brother, raising him without a mother and with an alcoholic father who couldn't hold down a job and had to move their little family all over the Midwest every time John Winchester had gotten himself fired from another job.

Dean had been just four years old when their mother died of bone marrow cancer. It burned through her body like a wild fire and in just a few short months had consumed her life. His memories of his mother always came back at unexpected times. They were faint, like echoes really. He remembered her warmth when she wrapped her arms around him and her smell, like clean linens. He could still feel the softness of her long blond hair that he loved to weave his fingers through as he fell asleep with his head on her shoulder to her softly singing _Hey Jude_. He remembered her making him pies, firmly establishing his lifelong obsession with the dessert.

And he remembered sitting on her lap in their living room in Lawrence, Kansas. She would sit on the rocking chair with Dean on one leg, his chubby little fingers gripping the arm that wrapped around him while his other hand twirled through her smooth blonde hair, while Sam cuddled snugly in her other arm. He can still hear Sam's snuffly baby sounds and smell that warm combination of talc and milk.

This was the last memory that Dean had of his mother. She was speaking to her children in soft tones, telling them how much she loved them with quiet tears falling down her cheeks. She told Dean to be a good big brother and she promised to send angels to watch over them when she was gone. She knew that she was at the end of her battle with the disease and this was her goodbye to her sons.

Dean leaned his head back on the couch, closing his eyes to soak in the memory. But memories tend to have a mind of their own and the warmth of his mother's arms was quickly replaced by the images that came after. Dad crying, the man who was his father being replaced by the ghost of a person with only a vacancy where his spirit once was. Dean holding onto Sammy and not wanting to let go of him. Then, at the funeral, surrounded by tall people he didn't know, near strangers patting his head, taking his hand, shuffling him from room to room. He remembered the confusion, the worry, the darkness that seemed to be settling over him.

He feels himself walking through a hushed crowd to a long wooden box at the front of the room. Stepping up onto a stool, looking down seeing not his mother's face, but the bloodied, filthy face of a fallen soldier. The memory suddenly became a whir of confused battle sounds, the high pitched squeal of damaged eardrums, white hot pain, blood mixed with tan colored dirt, the smell of gunpowder, the metallic taste of blood, screams, chaos then sky and floating.

Dean woke with a start. He was sweating and his breaths were coming in shallow bursts. Damn, these days it seemed like every memory took him back to Afghanistan. He took a few moments to practice the calming techniques his brother had found for him on some PTSD website. It eased the anxiety a bit, but he couldn't help feel an aching sense of hopelessness that he might never stop seeing blood and pain every time he closed his eyes. Taking one final deep breath, Dean steeled himself to face the day.

* * *

"He convinced you to do what?" laughed Dean's business partner, Bobby Singer.

"Dance lessons, for his wedding," Dean grumbled.

"Lemme guess, twinkle toes, he gave you them damn puppy eyes?"

"Didn't even have to. God, I am a sucker for that kid!" Dean admitted, shaking his head at his own weak spot for his little brother. "But on the bright side, the teacher is smokin' hot."

"Knew you weren't just doing it out of the goodness of your heart. But you can guarantee I will be there to witness Dean Winchester dancing. Now hand me that wrench, Baryshnikov." The corners of Dean's mouth turned up a bit at this, Bobby knew the Winchester brothers well. Bobby had also fallen victim to Sam's puppy dog eye method of getting his way a few times.

"So this one's going to be a beaut' when we're done," Dean gave a low whistle as he walked around the 1969 Mustang Mach 1, lightly caressing the edges of her steel body as he examined her lines. Damn, he loved these classic muscle cars. The sharp lines, the detail that went into them, the rumble of the engines, the power he felt in the driver's seats. He couldn't wait to see this one restored to her former beauty.

Dean had always loved fixing up cars. It was the one thing he bonded with his father on. John Winchester had owned a 1967 Chevy Impala and taught Dean to fix cars, using the Impala as their classroom. John had wrecked it a few times in drunken stupors, but that just gave Dean more experience in restoring her to her original beauty. After their father died, that Impala had become Dean's prized possession, a gleaming sexy black beast roaring and eating up roads with Dean behind her wheel.

Dean knew mechanics. Maintaining engines, though, was tedious to him compared with the rewards of rebuilding a classic and restoring it to its former beauty. So when Dean left the Army with just about every dollar he had made saved up it didn't take much to convince Bobby Singer to add onto his auto repair garage a restoration shop for Dean. They both had to hide the dampness in their eyes the day they hoisted the Singer _and Son_ sign over the shop. Of course, Bobby wasn't really their father, but they believed that family doesn't end with blood so Singer and Son just felt right.

"You gonna stand there all day bonding with it, or you gonna help me fix her up?" grumbled Bobby.

"We are getting to know each other. Cars like this, they have a soul. I have to take a moment to get to know her, understand what she wants to be." Dean knew this sounded corny, but the one thing he never could bring himself to feel ashamed of was his love for this work. He wasn't a mechanic, he was an artist.

Bobby rolled his eyes at this, but he let Dean have his moment because he had seen what that kid could do with a car and if a little bonding time was what it took, then he was all for it. He loved having Dean's finished pieces sitting outside the shop. Just seeing them there had brought in more than a few customers, admiring his work. "Fine, before you two get a room, though, can we at least get started on this engine?"

Dean huffed a laugh at this and dove into working on the Mustang.


	2. Thunderstruck - ACDC

Castiel Krushnic was preparing for a long evening. He knew that the new students coming in were here to learn a dance or two for their wedding then he would probably never see them again. He enjoyed working with these couples, but at the same time, it sometimes made him sad that they would probably not stick with dancing after their wedding date. He thought it was a pity, for he always derived such joy from losing himself in music.

He had already been at the studio for a few hours when Pamela sauntered in. They had been dance partners and best friends since childhood and he didn't know how he would have survived the last few years without her.

"Hey, hun," Pamela greeted him, swinging an arm around his neck and placing a soft kiss on his cheek, "ready for our new class?"

A small smile crossed his face as his eyes closed to the warmth of his friend's touch. "Yes, I thought we could start with a basic rumba and maybe give them something a little faster too, like a swing. Do they have specifics picked out yet?"

"Not that I know of, let's see what they have in mind when they get here. You'll like them. Sam and Jess are really nice. I know her a little from the gym. But she did warn me that Sam's brother is coming and he is not too happy about it. She said he is ex-Army, so he's probably one of those men who thinks dancing is girly. God, people can be so ridiculous! Hey, want to give them a demonstration when they come in and show them how sexy and manly dancing can be? Our last competition tango should do it." The mischievous glint in her eye was contagious and Castiel agreed to her plan.

* * *

"Jess, Sam, welcome. This must be Dean and Charlie? Great to meet you. I am Pamela Barnes and this is Castiel Krushnic. Before we get started on your specific dance, we thought we would show you a little of what good dancing can look like with a tango. Now, yours won't look like this but if you keep at it, you can see that dancing is really great."

Yep, she was every bit as drop dead gorgeous as Dean remembered. He was all set to turn his patented Dean Winchester charm on her when he was distracted by the other instructor, Castiel. When they were introduced, they had shaken hands and locked eyes for a moment longer than necessary and Dean felt something strange. It was a twist in his gut that sent a shiver down his back, giving him that momentary numbness in his fingertips that usually only accompanied an adrenaline rush. It didn't make any sense so Dean brushed it off as nerves.

Castiel and Pamela took their position and waited for the music as they exchanged a knowing and private glance. When the music began and the pair began to move as one, everyone stood entranced. Dean watched as Castiel led his dance partner across the floor, transitioning from smooth to staccato steps, increasing the drama and sensuality as the song progressed. The music was deep and passionate, conveying a traditional tango melancholy.

Dean found himself inexplicably holding a breath as Castiel's strong frame pulled Lisa towards him into a deep corte so that he hovered over her as her back arched delicately and she gazed up at him, sultry as fuck. Castiel exuded a power and grace that Dean hadn't expected, and when had he stopped watching Pamela, focusing solely on the man in control of this dance?

The dance was a seamless give and take, a push and pull of power and will between the dancers and it was intoxicating. There was something about the man's shape, his grace and his stoic expression that seemed to hold a thousand stories behind those blue eyes. The music began to crescendo as Castiel led his partner through intricate footwork and effortless lifts with controlled passion.

When the last note ended with Pamela falling back across Castiel's outstretched knee as he leaned across her bringing his free hand gently down her outstretched arm, ribs and to her hip Dean was enraptured by the couple.

The small audience burst into applause and Sam leaned over to Dean with a knowing smirk, "Seriously, dude, she is hot, you gonna make a move?"

"Right," Dean had to shake himself out of his revelry a bit, "Uh, yeah, smokin' hot." Too bad that every time he tried to think about Pamela, her dance partner would come to mind. Seriously, though, what the hell? He hadn't thought about being with a guy in years, unless you count Dr. Sexy, who had found his way into the occasional sexy dream.

After their initial demonstration, Castiel and Pamela split the students into men and women to start learning their respective parts. Pamela took the men and Castiel the women.

"OK, guys, let's see what you've got. Here, stand over here and watch." She gripped Dean's bicep to show him where to stand and slunk way into his space, looking up him, smiling. "Well, look at you, gorgeous, you make a deal with the devil to get those eyes?" Pamela laughed at her own joke. Dean stood slightly flustered. He was usually the one with the pick up lines. Sam crinkled his forehead at his brother when he saw lady's man Dean Winchester speechless. Pamela caught his look and chuckled, "Hey, grumpy, you're pretty too." And with a laugh she stepped back and placed her hands on her hips, sizing up her new students. "Damn, you two both won the gene pool lottery, didn't you?"

Pamela turned and stepped away to select the music and both men tilted their heads at the same time to check out her sultry walk. Sam leaned over and whispered to his brother, "Dude, she would eat you alive."

"I'm so in. Bring it."

Pamela returned with a knowing grin, "OK, boys, the first thing you're going to learn is a rumba. Do either of you know anything about that dance?"

Two blank stares were the response.

Pamela laughed, "That's OK, I'm here to teach you. Well, the rumba is slow and sexy and will be a great first dance for you. If it is done right, it is a seduction. It is supposed to look like a couple in love flirting and teasing."

Pamela continued to show them the basic box step and under arm turn. Dean turned on the charm, joking and flirting with her through the lesson. Pamela was definitely his type: beautiful face, great smile, easy sense of humor. Dean thought he just needed to find out how available she was. But first it was time to pair up with their real partners and practice what they had learned.

* * *

"This is fun. I feel like Jack and Rose" giggled Charlie.

Dean gave her a quizzical look, "Does that mean we are a sinking ship and you are going to let me drown?"

Charlie flung her head back and laughed, "No, we geeks have our own Jack and Rose. Ever watch Doctor Who?"

"No, what's that?"

"O.M.G! Dean, we are going to have a Doctor Who marathon. Everyone should know who The Doctor is."

"What does that have to do with the Titanic? Oops, sorry about that." Dean gave Charlie an apologetic look as he stepped on her toes.

"No worries," she smiled. Dean thought he really was going to like Charlie. "Rose is this awesome time traveler who saves the universe and Jack is this adventurous time agent who hits on everyone, men, women, aliens. You'd like him." Then she winked and what did that mean, Dean wondered.

"How are things coming over here?" asked Castiel, who had wondered over to check on Dean and Charlie.

"Well, I think I've got it down, but my toes have taken a bit of a beating," Charlie quipped. Dean had the grace to look embarrassed for the damage he may have done to her feet. But she winked at him and he knew she was joking.

"Aw, Charlie, hope my clod of a brother isn't tramping on your feet too much," joked Sam.

"Hey, Sammy, not everyone can be a princess like you."

Sam threw his brother a bitch face, which caused Jess to break down into laughter. "Dean, your brother is no princess on the dance floor. In fact, he now owes me one serious foot massage tonight."

Sam looked down at his fiancé with a worried expression. "I'm sorry, Jess. It's just… big feet?"

Jess and Dean looked at each other and lost it. Jess, placed her hand gently on Sam's cheek. "I'm kidding! You're doing great. Really, thanks for doing this, baby." Sam positively melted at Jess' touch.

Dean and Charlie looked at each other, grinned, and cooed in unison, "Awwwww."

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam said with another killer bitch face. "God, what made me think it was a good idea to bring you?"

"You need me and you know it, little brother."

"As sweet as this bro-ment is, I think our esteemed Jedi master over here wants us to get back to work." Charlie tipped her head toward Castiel, who was standing awkwardly to the side, looking stiff and stoic.

Castiel squinted his eyes and tilted his head slightly, "I'm sorry but I don't understand that reference. Regardless, this session is nearly over. I believe both couples are progressing sufficiently. If there are no questions, class is dismissed and we will reconvene next week."

Castiel excused himself as the students proceeded to change their shoes and gather their things. Once he was finished, Dean headed toward the studio's business office to pay the bill when he saw Castiel and Pamela talking in the hallway. He stopped in his tracks because he was quickly able to tell by their hushed tone that the conversation was private. Pamela, who all evening had talked with a laugh in her words and a twinkle in her eye was now nothing but soft and somber. "…bad day. You know I love you. Whatever you need."

Pamela reached her hand up to cup Castiel's cheek and pulled him down into a gentle kiss. Castiel pulled away and looked at her for a moment with an unreadable expression then pushed her back against the wall, deepening into a passionate kiss and tangling his hands through her hair. Dean knew he shouldn't be seeing this and quietly backed out of the hallway. Damn, he thought, that's that. Those two were definitely a couple and, while Dean could pretty easily charm most ladies, he didn't mess with other's relationships.


	3. Paradise by the Dashboard - Meat Loaf

Lying in bed that night, Dean's mind drifted to Castiel. There was something about him that was incredibly hot, and Dean hadn't really thought that way about another man in a long time. Back in high school he had realized that he was attracted to boys as well as girls. Sadly, more often than not, that attraction was used for survival and not love.

He learned young that there were men willing to pay for a blow job from a handsome teenage boy. How many bars had his father taken Sam and him to, finding the young boys a table in the back, ordering them some greasy bar food to share, and dumping a fistful of quarters in their hands to keep them busy with some arcade game while he sat on a bar stool chasing away his pain with his pals Jack, Jim and Jose.

In those dark corners, Dean had been approached by sleazy men who reeked of cigarettes, alcohol and sweat. Sam sat terrified and frozen the first time. Dean never wanted to see that expression on his little brother's face again so he quickly learned to hide a small knife in his pocket and to flash it just under the table, but in the older man's view, while giving the slightest headshake and give off his best get the fuck out of here glare.

This had kept most of them away, but as Dean got older, and their father began disappearing for longer periods of time, leaving the boys without enough money for food and shelter, he remembered those men in bars and knew what they were willing to pay for. More times than he cared to remember, he had fed Sammy using money earned in the cab of an eighteen wheeler, a filthy bathroom stall in a bar or truck stop men's room, or in a back alley on his knees.

He still remembered the one time his father had caught him. That one hadn't even been for money. He had met Michael at school and was immediately attracted to his strength, leadership, and good looks. They hit it off immediately and were soon inseparable. During their three months at Hoover High in Canton, Ohio, Michael had become a steady part of the lives of Sam and Dean.

Sam loved that Dean had such a good friend and was always happy when the three of them would spend time together. Michael was always accepting of the fact that Dean let his brother tag along so much. They spent their weekends driving to the lake, enjoying the freedom of fishing and swimming in the fresh water, working at the local ice cream store to make a little extra money, and sneaking into Monster Movie Marathons on Saturday nights. That spring was one of the happiest of Dean's life. Until the day that all of the looks, smiles, and accidental touches finally made sense.

They had just finished their shift at Creamy Cones and Dean was giving Michael a ride home. The sound of Metallica was filling the car as the boys sang along, driving with the windows down to enjoy the warm May evening air. At a stop light, Dean turned to his friend and smiled and to his shock, Michael leaned over and kissed him.

Five minutes later, the Impala was parked and the boys had found their way to the back seat. Lit by only the moon and the lights from the car's stereo playing Bad Company, it was there that Dean fell for the older boy as they explored each other in a rush of teenage bliss. Dean was reveling in exploring Michael's warm torso with his tongue, enjoying that he could do this with someone whom he was so attracted to, when suddenly, he was yanked backwards out of the car by his collar, briefly choking him, causing his shirt to rub an angry burn across his neck.

He heard his father's gruff baritone, "Dean!" as he scrambled back, falling onto his backside and scraping the palms of his hands on the concrete. Michael gulped and scrambled out of the car to help Dean up, but John stood between them. Towering over Michael, he hissed through clenched teeth for him to leave, now! Dean met the other boy's eyes and nodded for him to just go. A tightness formed in his gut as he realized that this would be the last time he would see Michael's face.

John turned to hover over Dean, who was still on the ground, "Get off your ass and get back home," he grumbled out. Dean looked up at his father, but could only see the outline of the man in the dark with the brightness of the streetlight behind his head. That dark silhouette revealed nothing of John's face, leaving Dean with a heavy pit of fear in his gut. He hated not being able to read his father.

He watched his father turn around and climb into the Impala, pulling away without looking back at his son. Shit, thought Dean, he had brought the car out tonight. Now he would have to race to get back to the motel before their father did. He gathered as much dignity as he could, pulling himself up and wiping his scraped hands over his jeans and hustled back to the Sunny Days Motel. He felt tears welling up in his eyes all the way back but wouldn't cry, couldn't fall apart. He had to be strong for Sammy. He knew when Dad came back there would be hell to pay and he had to keep it together and figure out what to do, fast.

"Sammy, wake up," he whispered in a voice that he hoped didn't sound too panicked, "come on, you gotta get up. Dad's coming back and he's pissed. You got to go somewhere."

"Mmph, wha'? Dean, what's going on?" Sam rubbed his eyes and tried to wipe away the confusion. He registered Dean's tone, though, and knew he was freaked.

"Here's a couple bucks," Dean shoved a five in Sam's hand as he tossed the kid's shoes to him. "The diner down the street, it's open 24 hours. Go get something to eat and wait for me there. I'll tell Dad you are sleeping over a friend's. C'mon, hurry."

"Uh uh, Dean. What about you?"

"I'm fine, you know me." Dean forced a smile. "I can calm Dad down, take care of him." The lie came too easily off of Dean's tongue, having forced out similar stories to cover for their father too many times.

Sam stopped tying his shoes and looked up at his brother, "Then why do you want me to leave?"

Damn this kid for getting too smart for his own good. "Dad had some trouble at work and got drunk and he doesn't want you to see him that way. Don't worry, I'll get him to sleep then come and get you. Here, take the pepper spray and don't talk to anyone." Dean took a second to pull a hand down over his face, a gesture too mature, too weighed down for his 18 years. He sighed, "Everything's OK, Sam. You know I am not going to let anything bad happen, just go."

Sam did as Dean asked, looking back at his older brother knowing that there was more to his story. But he trusted Dean and knew he would only ask him to leave the motel in the middle of the night if he had to. There were the times he had Sam scram so he could bring a pretty girl back to the room, but he always made sure Sam had somewhere to go and never in the middle of the night.

Shit, shit, shit. Dean paced around the room trying to figure out what to say when his father got there. He steeled himself for the onslaught by taking a few swigs of his father's whisky bottle. He would be pissed about that, too, but how much worse could he make it at this point. The burn on his neck from his shirt being pulled was starting to ache and he started absently picking pebbles of dirt out of his scraped palms. He hoped his Dad would just hurry and get here already, he didn't want to leave Sam alone for long.

Turns out his wait wasn't long at all. Five minutes later, John burst through the door with fire in his eyes that made him seem unrecognizable to Dean, almost possessed. This was good. In his mind, Dean could detach the father that he loved from this man, who he called the demon. He saw nothing of his father's light brown eyes in this man, they were dark and dangerous, almost solid black. This man was a stranger.

When his father's fist connected with his cheekbone, he told himself he was being attacked by something evil and not Dad. Dean reeled back, grabbing his face. Shit, he hadn't expected that. Sure, John had used him as a punching bag more than a few times when he came home drunk, but he was usually smart enough to keep the bruises below the neck. Now, what was he going to tell Sam?

"No son of mine is going to be some fucking faggot! Bible says that's an abomination so don't ever let me catch you doing that shit again, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir. I…"

John took two strides towards his son, standing in front of the boy who had one hand cupped to his hurt face, the other lifted in protection, palm towards his father. "No, please" he said as his father grabbed the front of his shirt and swung his free hand up to hit Dean's jaw. He could feel his lip swelling and taste blood as he felt the dizziness that always came with a blow to the head. John let go of him and his legs wobbled and almost gave in, but Dean didn't want to fall in front of this man so he defiantly held himself up and stared straight at the thing that was possessing his father.

"Now, that pretty face of yours ain't so pretty. No one's gonna want you like that, so I just made it easier to quit fucking cocksucking." At that, John, lurched forward and had to grab hold of a chair to keep from falling. Dean could tell, had seen it enough times, that this meant the alcohol was taking its toll and his father would be passing out soon.

He reached for the older man, wrapping John's arm around his shoulder to put the burden of the older man's weight on his own back. He shuffled over to the nearest bed and lowered his father gently down. He squatted down in front of the bed to unite and pull off John's boots then stood up to slowly lift each leg up onto the bed. He leaned over the older man to reach a pillow and lifted his head to gently rest it on the pillow.

When he looked down, he saw blood on his father's face and wondered stupidly how John had gotten hurt. It was a moment before he realized it was his own broken face that had dripped onto his father's cheek. What a pair they made, a boy with so much heart nurturing the man who had broken the flesh of his son's face.

Seeing his own blood on his father's face caused a wave of nausea to pound into him. He felt bile rise up, tasting the bitterness of it, mixed with the metallic tang of the blood in his mouth. And there was a strange buzzing in his ears that kept flooding him with a swirling feeling of vertigo so that he had to hold onto the edge of the bed and lock his knees to keep from collapsing.

He ran to the bathroom, collapsing to his knees over the toilet, spilling his insides into the bowl in wave after wave of convulsions that left him empty and wrecked. He gave himself just a moment to lay his head on the cool porcelain to clear the vertigo. He had no time to waste; his brother was still sitting in a diner alone in the middle of the night.

He took a moment to assess the damage to his face in the motel bathroom's mirror. His left eye was swelling shut and just below his eye was a gash high on his cheek that was dripping blood. His mouth didn't look much better, an ugly black bruise covering the swelling on his chin. He cleaned himself up as much as he could, steeled himself with a deep breath and left the motel room to go collect his little brother.

Sam's eyes welled with tears when he saw Dean walk into the diner and slide into the booth across from him. "What happened?"

"It's not as bad as it looks, Sam. I'll be back to my gorgeous self in a few days. And hey, chicks dig scars, right? Just adds to my rugged good looks." Dean's joke fell heavy between them. Nothing could lighten the horror of what had just taken place. This was the first time Sam had really seen the effects of his father's temper. He knew that there were times that Dean and their father fought, but Dean was an expert at hiding it and deflecting all of their father's fury away from Sam. As Sam's tears flowed down his cheek, Dean was unable to hold his own terror back any longer as he felt the prickle behind his eyes and knew that he was going to lose it.

As the reality of what happened hit him, he began to shake and his breathing hitched. Sam got up from his side of the booth and silently slid in beside Dean, leaning his head on his older brother's shoulder. Dean wrapped Sammy in his arms and buried his face in his little brother's hair. The boys sat for a long time together in the quiet of the diner clinging to each other, each a lifeline for the other. Finally, when they gathered from each other the strength to go back, they headed to their motel room in silence.

One week later was the accident that took their father's life and left the boys orphans.


	4. I Hope You Had the Time of Your Life

Castiel couldn't sleep. He had gotten through the day alright but knew that tomorrow would be so much worse. Tomorrow would be three years since his life had fallen apart. Three years since he held Balthazar's broken body and wept. Three years since he had been forced to leave a job he loved because they found out who he loved. Three years since he had touched the sky.

Castiel had always been intrigued with flying. From as young as he could remember, he was fascinated with airplanes. When his mother scrounged up the money to pay a small plane owner to take Castiel up in the air for the first time he was hooked. As the plane took off, he felt a freedom he hadn't known until that moment. And when they glided silently over the earth below, he had a sense of peace, of home. This was where he belonged. He decided at that moment, he would one day fly on his own.

True to his word, Castiel decided he wanted to be a helicopter pilot and he joined the army through the ROTC program. He was thrilled to pilot a UH-60 Medevac Blackhawk. It felt like he got to fly and help people and his country at the same time, what could be better?

It was on his third year-long deployment to the Middle East in five years that Castiel began to doubt. He had spent so much time being the perfect soldier, flying every route assigned and believing wholeheartedly in the mission. But he gradually grew tired. He had seen too many lifeless bodies and was losing a sense of what he was fighting for. For every person he helped to save he knew the next day dozens more were marching back into danger in this wasteland covered in heat and sand.

Then he met Balthazar. Castiel fell for Balthazar surprisingly fast. He was smart, funny, sexy, and made Castiel feel a sense of purpose again. Balthazar still had faith in their mission and inspired Castiel to be a better soldier.

Balthazar was a Captain, commanding officer of an MP company and Castiel was the Captain of his evac team. Their affair started back at Fort Benning. They met at one of the many officers' events that were held on base and instantly developed a trusting friendship which grew to love.

They had to carry out their affair in complete secret, though, to protect both of their careers in the Army. They would get away from base, going for long drives in Balthazar's car, a convertible Austin-Healey. It was a flashy old thing, but it was perfectly Balthazar. They would put the top down and take weekend trips far away from base where no one knew who they were so that they would not be caught. And life was good for a while.

Then came the deployment orders. Castiel's team was to ship out again to Afghanistan in 30 days. Balthazar's unit was to stay state side. Balthazar immediately began searching out MP Captains in Castiel's battalion that he could trade places with. It wasn't hard to find soldiers willing to go along with Balthazar's plan. He schemed and planned and called in favors until he was able to convince the higher-ups that it was a good thing to send him, a single soldier, instead of a married father of three.

Castiel was furious when he found out what Balthazar had done. There was no reason for both of them to be in danger. But Balthazar insisted that they could keep an eye on each other this way. It was on that deployment that everything came crashing down. On a mission to guard a throughway for some VIP who was making an appearance for the cameras, a car bomb exploded, fatally wounding Balthazar.

Castiel was just returning from picking up a crew that had gotten trapped in a firefight where three of the team members were killed and a fourth was just hanging onto life. He hoped the guy would make it, but knew even if he did, recovery would be hell. The man was covered in blood, some of it his and some his fellow soldier's, and he was screaming in pain and anguish that his men had been killed. Castiel's heart broke for the man and the hundreds like him he had seen. He needed to go see Balth, who could always remind him what they were here fighting for.

Once the medical team had whisked the patient away to the triage tent, Castiel hopped down from his aircraft and stood in the hot desert sun, dragging in a long breath, closing his eyes to ground himself after another difficult mission. As he began stripping off his flight gear, Sergeant Jodi Mills, one of the MP's from Balthazar's platoon, ran up to him and gave him a quick salute. "Captain Krushnic, I know you're friends with Captain Roche. He was injured. Come on," she said and turned on her heels to walk quickly towards Balthazar.

Castiel felt his heart drop and tried to hide the sheer panic that threatened to overtake him as he followed Sergeant Mills towards the triage tent. "There was an explosion," she began still breathing heavily, "Captain Roche was right in its path. Shit, he was inspecting the car right as it went off." Castiel glanced over at her now, noticing that she had blood on her sleeve and Kevlar vest.

Castiel had seen so many injuries he thought nothing could affect him anymore, but the site of Balthazar laying on the cot, with the life draining from his eyes, made him crumble. The man he loved was barely recognizable. One side of his face was covered in crisp white bandaging, his blond hair blackened and burned. Castiel's eyes quickly scanned over his body noticing far too many bandages and the heart monitor he was hooked up to beeped a slow irregular pace.

He rushed to his lover's bedside and grabbed his hand. Tears fell as they whispered their last words to one another and Castiel kissed him for the last time. It wasn't until after Balthazar's breathing stopped and his hand fell lifeless that Castiel noticed the looks that he was getting from some of the soldiers. He realized that the game was over, it had been quite obvious to everyone in the tent that he and Balthazar weren't just friends. It was one week later that he admitted to the accusations of homosexuality and was escorted home with discharge papers in his hand.

* * *

Pamela had offered to come home with him so he wouldn't be alone, but he knew that she wasn't really what he needed. The two friends had occasionally found comfort in each other's arms, abandoning themselves to the physical release that sex could provide, but both understanding that they were not meant to be. She was the only woman Castiel had been with and, as nice as it was with her, he knew that he had a strong preference for men.

Men like the handsome student that he had met that afternoon, Dean Winchester. Castiel couldn't help notice that Dean was beautiful. The man was tall, muscular and well kept, his short brown hair spiked neatly over his sun kissed face. He had a perfect mouth with full lips and an easy smile that Castiel had to force himself not to stare at. And his eyes, they were a muted green and were so full of life and expression.

He felt a surge of attraction to this man the moment their eyes connected as they shook hands. He had enjoyed Dean's easy humor during class and felt himself helping Dean and Charlie more than he usually would just to be closer to the man.

He knew Dean must be straight and he had no intentions of acting on his little crush; still there was no harm in fantasizing, right? God, he needed to get out there again. But every time he tried, it was an utter failure. Castiel knew he was socially awkward. He had been home schooled, raised in a very conservative home and had almost never been allowed to watch TV or movies. He was always the quiet outsider in the military, but, being an officer, it was easy to get away with. He had been a good leader of his medevac crew so he felt no need to socialize outside of that group.

He told himself, it's been three years. It is time to move on and meet someone new. He just had to get through tomorrow, the anniversary of Balthazar's death.


	5. Never Say Goodbye - Bon Jovi

The next day, Dean decided he would drop by the studio to pay for the lessons since he hadn't had a chance after the instructor's make-out session the day before. He had just left work and the studio hadn't started evening lessons yet so he figured it was a good time. As he walked through the door, he heard music and noticed that there was no one at the front desk. He peeked around the door to the dance floor and noticed Castiel, dancing alone.

Dean was frozen as he watched the dancer create a work of art on the dance floor. This wasn't a ballroom dance, but expression through motion. Castiel had obviously not been expecting any clients as he wasn't dressed in the usual dress pants and white shirt, but he was shirtless, barefooted and dancing in just a pair of long shorts.

Dean watched as the finely-toned muscles of his body flexed and pulled as he moved with the music. The corner of Dean's mouth quirked up a bit when he realized the song that he was dancing to was "All Out of Love." REO Speedwagon, seriously? Oh well, at least it wasn't some new synthetic pop crap.

_I wish I could carry your smile in my heart, for times when my life seems so low_

_It would make me believe what tomorrow can bring, when today doesn't really know_

Castiel's dance was unrehearsed, raw, and pure passion. He danced with an unnamable weight, it was grounded and solid, all strength and grace. He leapt through the air, landing gracefully on his feet and continued the fluid movement into a roll onto his knees as he pulled his hands in, cupped over his heart. He stilled for a moment, just breathing with the music, head bowed, nothing moving but the slow rise and fall of his shoulders through heavy breaths. Dean held his breath.

_I want you to come back and carry me home, away from these long, lonely nights_

_I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too? Does the feeling seem oh, so right?_

In the next movement, he looked up slowly, continuing to look up, stretching his long neck until he was facing the ceiling, as his hands left his chest and reached up, up, slowly the movement continued through the very tips of his fingers. Then, in one swift, fluid movement, an arm came down to the ground as his strong legs pushed off, cartwheeling him over and back onto his feet so that he could move around the floor, filling the room.

_I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you, I know you were right, believing for so long_

_I'm all out of love, what am I without you? I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong._

Castiel let the chorus carry him around the room, stretching, leaping and clawing at some emotion, his pain written plainly on his face. With the last note of the song, he did a final pirouette, ending it abruptly on outstretched flat feet, a hard stance contrasting with the fluidity of the dance. Then he fell forward onto his knees, his hands coming up to cover his dipped face as he let out a thick sob.

Dean was frozen. He didn't know what to do. What he had just witnessed was not a dance routine but a soul crying out, it was love and anguish and pain. He felt like he should go and offer comfort but at the same time he felt like he was intruding on something very private and intimate. His caretaker instinct took over and he did an awkward clearing of his throat as he knocked on the studio door.

Castiel's head snapped up as he realized he wasn't alone. "Sorry," mumbled Dean, "you OK?"

"I… uh…" Castiel's eyes connected with Deans and were caught there for a long moment. Neither man moved or breathed. Dean could see tears in Castiel's eyes, threatening to spill over but Castiel took a deep breath and held them in.

"Uh, I just came by to drop off my payment," Dean managed, trying to think of something to break the awkwardness.

"Of course, apologies." Castiel seemed to gather his wits and got to his feet to come over to Dean, standing strangely close. "We aren't technically open today so I was just, uh, it's nice to have the dance floor to myself sometimes," he explained, shifting his eyes towards the floor.

"Sorry, didn't realize. Hey, you sure you're OK? You seem a little…off?"

"I'm sorry, Dean. This has been a difficult day for me. Sometimes dance is an outlet."

Dean lifted a hand to rub against the back of his neck, not knowing what to say to that. "If you say so." The next thing he knew, his mouth was speaking before his brain even registered it. "Hey, you know what else is great for a sucky day? An ice cold beer. How about it, Cas?"

Castiel was taken aback. He hadn't expected this man to be so endearing and so irresistible. He stared at him, tilting his head to the side a bit the way he always did when he was trying to figure out some unknowable mystery.

"I'm not suitably dressed for that. Would you mind giving me a few moments to get cleaned up?"

"Sure thing. We can swing by your place then head out?"

"We're already there. I live upstairs. Would you like to wait there?"

"You live here? Nice commute, man. Sure, lead the way."

They headed up a flight of stairs into a large mostly open space. About half of it was unlit and covered with hard wood floor with no furniture in sight. On the far side of the room, however, was a cozy looking living area and small kitchen, which they headed towards. "Please have a seat and make yourself at home. I will be as expedient as I can," said Castiel as he showed him to the living room then disappeared down a short hallway beside the kitchen. A few minutes later, Dean heard the sound of the shower running, which gave him a moment to look around.

The living room had a welcoming and comfortable feeling. It gave off a sense of home. Everything was warm colors of soft brushed greys and deep reds, with polished cherry wood accents. An antique traveling trunk with worn wood and old leather buckles sat along one wall. Dean smiled to himself as he noticed, too, that it was a bit messier than he had imagined Castiel's home would be. There were books laying casually on end tables one laying open and face down to save a page. A throw blanket was tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair, a pair of shoes had been kicked off onto the floor in front of the couch, and what was probably the morning's coffee mug was leaving a brown ring on a folded newspaper.

The space contained an eclectic collection of objects that made Dean feel like this was a home. One wall was covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves and lined with hundreds of well-worn books. There was probably a system to their organization, but Dean also loved the way they weren't all perfectly lined up. Some were stacked horizontally, or leaning casually on the other stacks. Still others slid in above a row of vertical editions. Several had bookmarks hanging over their edges and interspersed between the books were random objects: a few photographs, medals, a metronome, a small globe, a small Virgin Mary statuette, and one shelf held a random collection of little knickknacks that looked like they were collected from all over the world.

Dean moved to the bookshelf, running his hands along the spines, feeling the bumps as his fingers caressed each one. He had never been able to own many books growing up and he envied anyone who could have so many, it felt like holding onto a collection of adventures.

He decided to look closer at the photographs. There was one of Castiel with Pamela, she had her arm around his shoulder, grinning in that sexy casual way she had about her. Castiel was standing stiff as a soldier, but looking slightly sideways towards Pamela with a slight smile that reflected in his eyes and Dean could read in that glance nothing but love and respect between the couple.

He moved on to another photo of two soldiers in what was certainly the Middle East. They were standing next to one another in front of a Blackhawk helicopter with a large red cross on it, the shorter man casually leaning back against it's door, legs crossed at his ankles. The taller man had his elbow resting on the shorter man's shoulder and he was grinning widely. The shorter man wasn't quite smiling, but had a satisfied smirk on his face. Dean looked a little closer and realized that the shorter man was actually Castiel. He was in the service? He wondered how he went from that to dance teacher. He made a mental note to ask about this development.

A third photo was of a beautiful woman with a teenage boy, both smiling next to one another. The boy could only be Castiel. Those eyes were unmistakable, such a deep blue and so intense. He was in a black tuxedo with tails. In the picture he looked so young and carefree, different than the stoic man whom he had just watched pour his heart out into a dance. The woman standing next to him was lovely. She was dressed in a white evening gown and her black hair was pulled up into an elegant up do. Dean imagined this may be Castiel's mother. She had the same dark hair, warm smile and intense blue eyes.

"My mother and I," came from just behind Dean, making him jump. He hadn't heard Castiel coming at all. When he turned around he realized why. The man was standing clearly in Dean's personal space fully dressed except for his bare feet. He looked so relaxed and at home like that, it stirred something in Dean's chest, which he promptly tried to squelch. But as he took a moment to take in the rest of Castiel, he realized there was something about this man that he just couldn't ignore.

He was dressed in jeans that hung on his hips perfectly. On top he wore a cream colored Henley with the sleeves pushed up and had thrown a dark blue scarf around his neck which really brought out the color of his eyes. His hair was still damp and there was a bead of water trailing down a strand just under his temple. Dean was transfixed on it for too long before he caught himself and shook out of his trance.

He swallowed thickly before putting on a grin, "You and your mom, huh? Nice getup, Top Hat, what was that all about?"

"It was a dance competition. She was an amazing dancer, World Champion in Argentine Tango and several Latin dances. We would sometimes complete together. That was the day that I won Youth Ballroom Grand Champion. She was so proud. She taught me everything before…" his voice trailed off and his eyes shifted downwards. Dean could sense they had just approached a topic that verged on a chick flick moment and quickly changed the subject.

"So, were you in the service too? A pilot? I saw your picture."

"Um, yes, Army. 498th Medevac. I piloted Blackhawk medevacs."

"Wow, that's awesome. I was in too, nothing so fancy for me, though. Just a grunt, 13-Foxtrot. You know, those blunt instruments sent in first? Did recon in Afghanistan. So what made you rejoin the civilians?"

Castiel paused, something like regret flashing across his face, then looked away. "It's complicated. I would rather we defer that conversation for another time, if that is alright with you."

Dean knew there was a story there and was immensely intrigued, but didn't want to force the guy into anything. He knew that soldiers all had stories and most of them were not pretty. Hell, he was an expert at burying his own feelings about the war so why begrudge someone else for needing to do the same. "Well, you know what's a great cure for a complicated story you don't feel like dealing with? Beer and babes! C'mon, let's head out. I'll introduce you to the lady in my life."


	6. Roadhouse Blues - The Doors

The lady to whom Dean was referring turned out to be his car. "This is my Baby, 1967 Chevy Impala, an American classic." Dean preened over to the car, placing his hand on the roof above the passenger side door. Castiel took in the polished chrome accents, a sharp contrast to the glossy black body of the machine. He gave Dean a quiet smile as he slid into the passenger seat. His eyes moved around the interior. It had smooth soft black leather seats and classic chrome accent controls against the creamy white dashboard. On the floor between the front seats was a shoebox of cassette tapes, a quick scan of which indicated that Dean was a fan of classic rock. As Dean plopped down into the driver seat, his hands caressing over the steering wheel, Castiel looked between the car and its owner. He immediately felt a sense of rightness, this man and his car seemed a perfect fit.

Castiel's artist mind began to wonder if Dean wasn't something like his prized possession. The car, with its strong metallic dark exterior and its loud, gruff rumble of a voice, but soft, comforting and classic on the interior. He smiled to himself at his own silly reverie, don't start waxing poetic, Castiel, he thought.

"Dean, this car is beautiful." He breathed with true sincerity.

Dean positively beamed. "She was my old man's. I completely rebuilt her after she was totaled."

Castiel could see the pride in Dean's face at this, but there was something else, something dark that flashed across his visage as well. But Dean quickly shook out of it and grinned as he started the engine and the sweet sounds of Robert Plant's voice bathed over them as he sang that he had to keep searchin' for his baby to find his bluebird. Until then, he'll keep Ramblin' On.

* * *

Castiel had never been to the Roadhouse, although it was only a few miles from his home. Never one for bars, he didn't really have a whole lot to compare this one to. But as he looked around the place he decided that this place had something like a spirit of its own. He could see why Dean liked it here. When they walked in, Dean was immediately greeted by a young blonde, who gave him a playful punch in the arm, "Pay up, Winchester! You know I beat you fair and square before you snuck out of here the other day."

Dean put his hands up in a gesture of surrender as his eyebrows went up in feigned innocence. "Aww, Jo, that hurts. You think I would renege on a bet? I, uh, had a uh, family emergency. Sam needed me for, uh, something. Couldn't ignore a moose call, could I?" He smiled at his own joke, pulled a couple of $20s out of his wallet and slapped them into her outstretched hand. "Here, take it, you shark. And don't ever ask me to play Buck Hunter with you again. Unless you want to team up and challenge Sam and Ash, I am sure we could make a killing," he whispered to her with a conspiratorial grin. She grinned back nodded then caught site of Castiel.

"Who's your friend?" Jo sidled up to Castiel and put her hand in the middle of his chest. "You look like much too nice a person to be hanging out with this low life." She jerked a thumb in Dean's direction and as he feigned to be grossly offended.

"His name is Castiel. Castiel, this is Jo, the little sister I never wanted."

Jo turned her head back to Dean, lifted one eyebrow and pursed her lips, "Bite me, Dean," she quipped with a laugh before turning back to Castiel.

Jo stood on her toes and leaned towards Castiel's ear. "Truth is Dean's awesome, but don't ever let him know I said that. OK, now look over at him and look surprised and smile like I said something really embarrassing. It will drive him crazy all night wondering what I told you." Castiel did as Jo said and was rewarded with a confused scowl from Dean that was really kind of adorable. "So, two seats at the bar?"

"Naw, we'll grab a table. Don't want to be harassed by Flo here."

"You can kiss my grits, Winchester." Jo said with her best ridiculous southern accent. And with a wink, she headed back to her other tables.

Castiel liked Jo immediately. They headed over to a table where Dean proceeded to tell him about the Roadhouse. It was owned by a woman named Ellen, whom he introduced to Castiel when she brought a couple of beers over to their table. While she was there, she pulled Dean into a warm, motherly hug which Castiel could see Dean savored. She asked how he was, adjusted a stray hair on his forehead, kissed his temple, and left them to their conversation. Castiel smiled at the kind encounter.

Dean went on to tell him that Ellen was married to Bobby, his business partner and close family friend. Jo wasn't really his sister, but Ellen's daughter. There was also Ash, the eccentric but genius friend who bussed tables and hacked computers for fun. "Aside from Sam, they are the closest thing I have to family," Dean had told him.

He listened to Dean talk about this surrogate family and was able to lose himself in the rhythm the man's speech, the deep rumble of his voice, the animation in his face, the little lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. He found himself absorbed, surrounded by the intoxicating essence of Dean Winchester.

Castiel was pulled out of his trance when Dean took a long draught of his beer, and slammed it down on the table, "OK, out with it."

"I'm sorry?" Castiel managed.

"You've been listening to me ramble on since we got here. Your turn. Spill. What was up with you today when I got to the studio?"

"I was just having a rough day."

"Not buying it. After a rough day you come home after work and put your feet up with a beer. That, well, it was something else."

Castiel hesitated. He had been able for a short time to forget what today was. He didn't know if he really wanted to bare his problems to this man who was for all intents and purposes a stranger, and a student at that. But when he looked at Dean and their eyes locked, there was something there, something that made him feel like this man would just get him.

"It has been exactly three years since I lost my best friend. He was killed in Afghanistan. After that I left the Army. I just lost the motivation to fight in a war where I didn't even understand what I was fighting for. I lost my friend, my career, and my wings." It felt liberating to say it out loud. When Castiel glanced up from his drink to Dean, he saw nothing but recognition there, another broken and tired soldier.

"Man, that really sucks." Dean took another drag of his beer. "Fucking war, huh? I lost half my squad in fucking firefight. Good men, shit, kids. I think the oldest was 23. I got a leg and shoulder full of shrapnel to take home with me. I guess I should be happy I survived, but really, I can't seem to get past the question of why I would live but my men died. I mean, I was in charge of them. It felt like my responsibility to bring them home safe. I guess I let 'em down, like I seem to let down everyone I care about."

Castiel hadn't expected that. He was so busy wallowing in his own sadness it hadn't crossed his mind that this man, who put on such a brilliant mask, may also be hurting inside. He tilted his head to the side narrowed his eyes, and looked directly into Dean's eyes and told him, "Dean, I don't know what happened in your life to make you feel that way, but I have seen you with your brother and watched you interact with the people that know you here this evening. I can tell you that every one of them adores you. I sincerely doubt that you have let everyone down as you say. And as for feeling responsible for the lives lost in war, you have to let that go. You can't save everyone, my friend."

Dean just stared at him for a long moment with an unreadable expression on his face. Castiel wondered what else this man must have been through in his life to make him feel like he had failed so much. Dean's face softened and he whispered a barely audible, "Thanks, Cas."

The nickname surprised Castiel. He had always used his full name, with the exception of an occasional Cassie from Balthazar, which he didn't really like. It felt intimate but somehow right that Dean would call him Cas. He spared a sad smile for his new friend.

"I should be thanking you. When you saw me this afternoon I was a mess. It has been difficult dealing with everything. You saw me at a low point. But this evening has really been helpful. Just telling you about my loss I think it was what I needed."

"So talk to me. You've got your own private Dr. Phil. Wanna tell me about this friend?"

Castiel hesitated. He was not ashamed of his sexuality but he didn't know Dean well enough to know if he was comfortable with having a gay friend. He decided that he could share his story and keep the true nature of his relationship with Balthazar to himself.

"Balthazar and I were stationed together at Fort Benning. He was killed by a roadside bomb when we were in Afghanistan. I watched him die and was helpless to do anything about it. And today is the anniversary of his death. I – I just sometimes miss him. It's been lonely without him." Castiel trailed off, the last words said in almost a whisper.

Dean waited patiently for Castiel to continue. Castiel looked up at him, "He would have loved your Impala. He had a taste for nice things. He had a classic car too, an Austin-Healey. He used to say it made him feel like James Bond." Castiel huffed a small laugh at the memory. "He was born in London and came to America when he was 12, but he still had a love for all things British."

"He does sound cool. At least he had great taste in cars – and friends." Dean said with a smile while lifting up his bottle and tipping it towards Castiel before taking a sip.

"I wrecked his car, though. He left it to me when he died and I was inebriated one night and I think I didn't even care if I lived or died and I wrecked it. It was kind of all I had left of him. I couldn't even get rid of it. It's still locked up in storage, all mangled and broken." Castiel couldn't believe he had just blurted all of this out. He didn't understand what it was about Dean that made him want to tell him his life story. He felt ridiculous for keeping a broken car and for being such a depressing mess.

Dean's expression changed from one of sympathy to someone who just had a brilliant idea. "Cas, you want to fix the car?"

"I have thought about it, but I wouldn't know where to start and I haven't even looked at it since the wreck."

"Well, Dean Winchester to the rescue. I happen to be the proud owner of an auto restoration shop and I would love to get my hands on a classic roadster."

Castiel didn't know what to say. Maybe this would bring him some closure but he was afraid to look at the car again. He didn't know if he wanted to face the memories it would bring up, like re-opening an old wound. After a few contemplative minutes he agreed that he would show Balthazar's car to Dean that weekend to see if it would be salvaged.


	7. Changes - David Bowie

Castiel stood outside of the storage locker, keys dangling from his hand for a long time. He could feel his heart racing and there was a sick churning in his stomach. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to see what a mess he had made. Didn't want to see the crumpled metal, broken glass, or the bloody seat. Why had he agreed to this? An anger began bubbling up inside of him, aimed towards Dean for talking him into this. He wasn't ready. But what wasn't he ready for: the memories or the possibility of letting go? He pulled out his phone to call Dean and call the whole thing off but at that moment a tow truck pulled up with Dean in the driver seat.

"Hey, Cas. So, let's take a look at her." Dean greeted him with a warm smile as he jumped down from the cab.

Castiel swallowed down the anxiety blocking his throat. "Dean, I don't think this is a good idea. I don't know if I want to see it again."

"Dude, you gotta face this head on. You were a bad ass pilot who flew in a war zone, you can do this." Dean placed a hand on his shoulder and Castiel relaxed into the warmth of the touch, leaning into the support. He bit his bottom lip and handed the keys to Dean.

The garage door groaned and creaked its objection to being opened after its long dormancy. As it rose up, the light from the sunny day made its way onto the front of the car. Dean took a deep breath and stepped forward. He could see that this car was once a beauty, probably around a 1965, convertible, off-white exterior with bright red leather seats and beautiful chrome accents. He smiled a bit thinking about its previous owner. He thought he was probably pretty cool if he liked cars like this and was best friends with Cas.

It was sad to see a thing of beauty in this shape though. The front end was buckled; it had obviously smashed into something head on. The front driver's side wheel was bent at an unnatural angle and the windshield was smashed in front of the steering wheel. Dean sucked in a breath as his heart skipped, thinking that Cas had been in the car when this happened.

He looked back at his friend, who hadn't entered the garage but was standing apprehensively outside, eyes wide and hands balled into tight fists at his sides. "You OK?" A quiet nod to the affirmative was his response. "Wow, Cas, you're lucky to have survived. Looks like someone up there likes you."

"I like to think so."

"Well, it's busted up pretty good but one thing I can tell you is that she's worth the effort to fix up. So, what do you say we put this humpty-dumpty back together?"

"We?"

"Yeah, I think you should help. It would be therapeutic. It's even fun, trust me."

Castiel hesitated. He knew the mechanics of aircraft, had studied them in college so he was pretty sure he could handle the internal combustion engine of a car, but he hadn't expected Dean to want to work with him. He didn't know if that was a good idea, he was far too attracted to and intrigued by this man. He didn't want to expose his heart to someone who he knew could never return the feelings. But somehow he found himself agreeing. He kept being surprised at the effect this man had on him.

Dean threw a blanket over the bloodied seat so Castiel didn't have to look at it and together they loaded the car onto the tow truck to head back to Dean's shop.

When they arrived, Dean was like a child showing off his new toys, almost giddy with excitement to give Castiel the tour. Dean proudly showed Castiel the Mustang he was currently working on plus two other finished pieces. Castiel walked around the cars, admiring the workmanship. "You did this?" He asked Dean, seemingly in awe of the vehicles in front of him. He realized at that moment that Dean wasn't a mechanic. He was an artist.

There was a classic Camaro Super Sport that especially caught his eye. It was painted a deep blue and on the sides were elegant swirls of lighter blues and silvers. The juxtaposition of a tough muscle car with such graceful accents made for such a unique site for the eyes. Castiel had never seen a car like it. He looked at Dean, who was beaming with pride. "I designed that one for this chick, Bella. She's a bounty hunter. She's totally bad-ass but all girly and feminine at the same time so I thought it kind of matched her personality. So, what do you think?"

"Dean, these are remarkable. What you do is truly extraordinary." Dean's smile widened and it was a sight that took Castiel's breath away when the smile extended through the man's green eyes. The two men locked eyes and shared moment of unspoken respect and kinship.

"Well, no time like the present to start making something awesome out of something so broken. Let's get started."

* * *

For the next five weeks, Dean and Castiel settled into a comfortable schedule of spending several hours a day together working on Balthazar's car. Castiel was a quick learner, finding that his understanding the mechanics of aerodynamics made an easy transition to understanding cars. He listened to Dean's instructions and worked smoothly by his side.

The men settled into an easy friendship, talking as they worked. They shared stories of their lives, ideas, and tastes. They found that they shared a love of pie and burgers, that they shared a hatred of politics, and they definitely agreed to disagree on the quality of the TV show Dr. Sexy.

Dean learned that Castiel was an only child who had never met his father. He discovered that his mother was a dancer who frequently travelled so Castiel was home schooled and had always felt awkward and alone, especially after his mother passed away. Dean understood Castiel's grief and isolation.

Castiel learned about Sam. He listened to Dean brag about his brainy little brother. He discovered that Dean had pretty much raised his brother because of their father's grief over his wife's death.

Castiel listened to Dean's stories and felt his connection with Dean grow along with a deep respect for the man who had such a beautiful spirit and so much heart. Dean, in turn, felt a kinship with Castiel and was charmed by the man's awkward quirks and moved by his quiet strength. Both men were quietly falling in love under the hood of the broken car.

Dean stood in his office and peered through the window into the garage where he had left Cas to the buffing work while he took a call from a client. He watched the way the man's muscles moved and pulled across his back and arms, especially visible through the tight t-shirt Cas had worn today. He was leaning over the closed hood of the car and Dean had a perfect view of his tight ass. Dean swallowed as the sight stirred a desire in him that he had long ago buried.

Cas put down his buffer, wiped his hands off on his pants, tracing a line over his hips and thigh. Then he slowly smoothed his hand over the metal of the car, tilting his head to the side and studying the spot with an intensity that Dean had never seen another person show. But then Cas had a way of looking at everything, including Dean himself, with that gaze. It had a way of boring through him like a laser focus.

Dean's eyes moved to Castiel's hands, still caressing the cold steel. God, he loved the way Cas used his hands. The first time he noticed those hands was that day he had seen Cas dancing by himself. There was something in the way his movements started at his core and rippled out through his arms, to his wrists and moved all the way through the tips of his long fingers. Dean found himself wondering what those hands would feel like on his body. He had started purposely brushing their hands together as they worked on the car, and sometimes leaning close enough that their arms or hips would touch.

Those touches would send electric jolts of excitement through him. He hadn't wanted another man this much since Michael. Damn it, keep it together Winchester. He knew Cas wouldn't want him. He had seen him with Pamela and didn't want to mess that up for the guy.

* * *

The following week, Castiel was enjoying his work with Dean. He loved absorbing himself in the labor of restoring something broken and the hope that it gave him as he started to see her original beauty slowly coming back. But he was getting frustrated trying to pull this fender out. It was wedged over the front tire and he had been squatting down pulling on the metal for 10 minutes but it wouldn't budge.

He let out a long sigh and wiped his brow with his arm and swiped the sweat from his hands across his dirty tank top. When he opened his eyes, there was a hand reaching around him to grab hold of the stubborn fender. He was suddenly aware of how close Dean was. He could feel the man's heat behind him which sent a thrilling sensation to his core.

"OK, let's do this together, on three?" Dean instructed and Castiel could feel the breath of those words on his bare shoulder, a ghost of coolness over his damp skin.

The smell of Dean so close made Castiel's head swim, as he savored the scent of his friend's musky cologne mixed with the flavors of the garage and something else that was pure Dean. He knew he was long gone over this man but valued their friendship too much to do anything about it. He would have to ignore his intense attraction and feelings that he had to hold onto the man who had quickly become the most important person in his life.

The two men lined up next to each other, legs, hips and arms unabashedly touching, reaching under the metal. "One, two, three." When Dean growled three their bodies worked together, muscles flexing and pulling, groaning with the intense effort of removing such a deeply imbedded injury. The metal was no match for their joint effort and the crinkled fender popped out suddenly, causing both men to lose their balance and land in a tangle.

Dean laughed and wiped his hands on his jeans. Castiel thought he could die happy listening to the laugh. He gathered as much dignity as he could and leaned forward to look at the fender. It was back in place, but the metal was severely scarred from being bent the wrong way for so long. As he ran his hand over the wrinkles, a feeling of sadness came over him as he absorbed the guilt of having caused such damage.

"We can fix that," came Dean's voice from above him. He had already gotten to his feet. "Those dents can be hammered out and we'll buff it up like new. You'll see. I never met a car so broken I couldn't put her back together."

Dean stretched a hand down to help Castiel up and the two men stood eye to eye for a long breath. A slow smile began to paint its way across Castiel's face.

* * *

"Ijits," mumbled Bobby as he stood in the doorway and witnessed Dean and Castiel's fender-fixing moment. He had watched these two for the last couple of weeks working on that foreign abomination they dragged in. Bobby firmly believed that cars that weren't made in America weren't worth his respect. Not that he was going to turn away all of his Honda and Subaru driving customers, but he certainly wouldn't be caught dead driving one.

He had noticed the way that Dean would steal glances at Castiel or move a little too close so their shoulders or hands would brush. And it seemed like he didn't even try to hide all of the times his eyes had drifted from Castiel's eyes down to his mouth. And damn, Bobby felt like taking a shower every time he had witnessed their intense eye-fucking.

And Castiel wasn't any better, always too up into Dean's personal space. What the hell was wrong with these two? Maybe he should just lock them in Dean's office and let 'em fuck it out, thought Bobby with an eye roll.

But really, that kid deserved some happiness. John Winchester had been a friend but Bobby couldn't stand the way he fell apart after Mary's death. He had seen less and less of John over the years as he was roaming the Midwest with his sons. Damn, he should have stepped in and taken Sam and Dean away from him sooner.

He still felt a chill when he remembered the day he got the call from Dean.

"Singer Auto Body." He had said and waited while there was silence on the line. "Look, you want something speak up." He didn't have time for this. What he heard on the line was a breath and a sniff.

"Bobby? It's Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Hey, son, good to hear your voice. How are you?"

"Bobby, Dad's gone." Damn, thought Bobby. Where had that bastard disappeared to this time?

"Damn it, John," he mumbled to himself, "He'll be back, kid. Probably just passed out somewhere. You and Sam OK?"

"No. I mean, yeah, we're OK. But Dad… he's dead." Bobby's heart sank. He had once loved John like a brother, having grown up childhood friends. "We were in a car crash. Me and Sam, we're OK, but the truck hit Dad's side and," Dean's voice hitched and paused, "Bobby, he's dead. I don't know what to do."

Without a heartbeat's hesitation he said, "Where are you? I'm gettin' in the truck to come and pick you up right now."

When he swung the doors to the hospital hallway open he saw a site that would stay with him for the rest of his life. He saw two little boys, clinging to each other, both beaten down and with bandages over various bloody cuts and scrapes. Although Dean, at 18, was already almost six feet tall and little Sam was nearly as tall as his big brother already, but sitting there looking so hollow and lost all he could see were the little boys who he had watched grow.

His mind still saw them as they were the last time they were together. Dean, a freckled little punk with big eyes and a heart of gold, proudly strutting around in clothes that emulated his father perfectly, that amulet that Sam was supposed to give John one Christmas hanging loosely around his neck. And little Sammy, with his big hazel eyes and floppy hair, always holding onto his big brothers hand and looking up to him as if he knew the answers to every question in the universe. He thought about the rambunctious boys whose dirty feet pounded on his hardwood floors as they ran through the house playing superheroes, fighting imaginary monsters.

They stood up when they saw Bobby come in and he watched the transformation. What stood before him now weren't the two little boys he remembered, but two vacant young men. Dean still stood a few inches taller than Sam, but probably not for long. He had a gash that ran down his forehead and a fading blue bruise on one cheek that couldn't have been from a car accident only 8 hours ago. Sam looked a little better, with only a red scrape across his cheek. Dean handed Sam his backpack and lifted his own.

His eyes drifted back into the room they were waiting outside of and lingered there as one tear streaked down his face. He huffed a singular long breath and as he turned back to Bobby, and found himself pulled into a firm hug. Bobby held Dean, so glad to see that he and Sam had survived the accident that took their father. Dean didn't hug back.

"The Impala, it's wrecked, Bobby." Dean struggled out.

"Nothin's ever so broken that it can't be put back together, boy. We'll fix 'er together."

That was the day the Bobby became a father to two boys. He and Ellen had taken in the Winchesters and made a place for them in their home and hearts.

Sam had taken instantly to having a constant home. He was so smart and he immersed himself in his school work, sailing easily to the head of his class. Bobby found him warm and receptive to his new life. Ellen worked wonders with the teen, spending long hours coaxing him out of his shell and getting him to talk about their lives on the road.

Dean, on the other hand, refused to talk about his past and kept his feelings firmly hidden behind the carefree, snarky mask that he wore so well. He would stop anyone who asked by telling them with a smirk and an outstretched hand, "no chick-flick moments." Only while they were working together on the Impala did he occasionally let some of his pain show, using the physical exertion of the work to release the tension.

Ellen relayed to Bobby Sam's stories from their life on the road with John. His biggest regret in life would always be not taking those boys away from John sooner. Neither of them had realized how desperate the boys' situation had become.

Sam was smart and observant and knew a lot more about Dean and John than Dean ever realized. He shared with Ellen what Dean kept secret and she had fallen asleep crying in Bobby's arms the night Sam revealed what Dean never would; that the bruise on his big brother's face was put there by John because Dean loved a boy named Michael. So Bobby knew that Dean wasn't quite as straight as he played it, but was pretty sure that boy was so emotionally constipated it would take something apocalyptic to make him face his feelings.

Shame, because that Castiel seemed like a perfect fit for Dean. He had a calm weight to him, like he was so much bigger and deeper than he let on. It would be the perfect complement to help ground Dean, who had a restless anxiety to him, always seeming to have too much energy to contain.

Shit, he was not about to have one of those share and care moments, though. That was Ellen's job. He turned to head back into the repair shop, hoping his surrogate son would get his head out of his ass.


	8. I've Seen That Movie Too

Dean discovered that Castiel was severely lacking in pop culture knowledge, having been raised in a very conservative home with almost no exposure to TV and movies. Dean insisted that if they were going to be friends, they were going to have a movie marathon.

On Saturday morning, Castiel showed up to Dean's apartment with coffee and muffins, prepared to, as Dean put it, "get schooled in awesomeness." Dean beamed at Castiel like a little kid, bursting with excitement to convert someone new to the love of all things Star Wars. "OK, dude, we're starting with Star Wars. It's a crime against nature for anyone to not know who Darth Vader is. But we're totally only watching the originals 'cause that crap that they made in the 90s? Just no. Then we can round off your education with some Die Hard – yippie-ki-ay motherfucker! And finally some Clint Eastwood – Go ahead, make my day!"

"Dean, that's like ten hours of television. It seems a bit excessive."

Dean leaned into his friend with a hand on his shoulder and a finger to his chest, "You, my friend, don't know what you're missing if you never spent a day vegged out watching classics."

Castiel was pretty sure he wasn't missing anything, but kept that opinion to himself. Dean's enthusiasm was infectious and he found himself looking forward to this day. Dean stretched an arm out for Castiel to enter his apartment.

Dean's apartment was very tidy. Cas was a bit surprised at first but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Dean had told him that he had a pretty nomadic upbringing so it would stand to reason that he would take such good care of a home now that he had one. After all, he had seen the care that the man took with his car and knew how he had taken care of Sam so Castiel figured he probably put that kind of devotion into other things in his life as well.

The apartment had an open feeling and the furniture was all modern, Ikea style with clean lines and no frills. He turned and gave Dean a small smile. "OK, I am prepared to be _schooled_ in _awesomeness,_" putting his fingers up into air quotes to emphasize the words. Dean rolled his eyes and thought for a guy who was usually so straight laced, he could be a snarky bastard when he wanted. And he really liked it.

Dean plopped down on the couch, grabbed a coffee and the remote, already having queued up the first movie. Castiel took a seat next to him and relaxed back into the soft cushions. Dean pressed play and watched Cas as the iconic music and opening intro played. He was thrumming with excitement to share one of his passions with his friend. He already had the movie practically memorized and was having a much better time watching Cas discover it for the first time.

He hoped he was being subtle, checking out Cas through of the side of his vision every chance he could. Cas looked so relaxed like this and Dean loved just having the other man next to him doing something fun and casual outside of the shop. He liked that during the more exciting moments in the movie, Cas would become absorbed with the movie, giving Dean the opportunity to really take the man in.

Dean had gotten used to seeing him in work clothes at the shop, and appreciated that Cas favored clothes that showed off his lean body. Today, though, he looked at home and incredibly sexy in a pair of dark jeans, loose fitting and hanging nicely on his hips. He was wearing another Henley and Dean was starting to love that Cas liked these shirts (and when had he developed a Henley kink?). This one was older and worn soft, even frayed a bit around the cuffs that were pushed up and it was a blue and brought out the deep color in the man's eyes.

He hadn't shaved this morning so there was a day of stubble over his face and his hair was rumpled into goddamn sexhair! Dean's hands itched to run his fingers through it, feel if it was really as smooth as it looked. But the worst was his scent. He smelled fresh and clean and was wearing something with a subtle exotic spice smell that was doing a number on Dean's senses.

After several hours of sitting so close to Cas he began to let his mind wonder. After all, he didn't exactly have to worry about getting lost in the movie plot. He fantasized about touching Cas, wondering what he tasted like, what spots on his body were the most sensitive, what kinds of sounds he would make when he was coming undone. Damn, just the thought of that voice all deep and fucked out! He remembered that perfect dancer's body from the day of their first date (date?), all lean defined muscle. And those hands! Now one was wrapped elegantly around a glass and the other rested on thigh, long fingers splayed out and Dean had the insane urge to trace the lines of those fingers.

Fuck, he needed to stop now! He couldn't sit here and pine like a teenaged girl over someone he couldn't have and he really didn't want to screw up this friendship. He forced himself to think of anything but Cas to get his mind off the blood that was travelling to his cock.

Finally, the credits rolled on the final installment of the Star Wars trilogy and Dean was starving and had worked himself into an anxious state. "Thank you, Dean, those were quite enjoyable."

"No shit! Didn't I tell ya they were great? Han rocks."

"I did like Han Solo. He was quite dashing."

"Dashing? Seriously, dude? Who talks like that?" Dean chuckled. "C'mon, let's get something to eat. I'm starving."

* * *

They decided after six hours on the couch they were both ready to stretch their legs and get out for some food. They settled on Italian, because Dean said he knew of a good place not far where the food was great and deserts were even better.

Dean was right, the food was excellent and Castiel also really liked the atmosphere. The place only had about fifteen tables and it was decorated in traditional Tuscan style, giving it an intimate, family feel. "Thank you for bringing me here, Dean. I find this restaurant quite enjoyable. It feels authentic. It reminds me very much of my time in Italy."

"Dude, you've been there? I've been around the US, but always wanted to check out Europe."

"I travelled extensively with my mother growing up. She was a professional dancer so we would move between cities whenever she secured a role in another show. When we were in a travelling company, we would usually spend about a month in each city. Occasionally, though, she would be in a more long-running show so we could stay in one location for longer. "

"Well I guess that's something we have in common. I can't remember ever staying in one place for more than a few months at a time. Me and Sammy, we just usually stuck together 'cause it sucked making friends just to leave them after a few months."

"I admire your dedication to Sam, Dean. I always wished for someone else in my life. My mother was wonderful, but growing up with just her definitely got lonely. And once she passed away, it left me with almost no one." Castiel suddenly felt awkward for sharing this and tried to busy himself with his food, looking down and taking a drink of wine.

"Is that why you joined the Army? To be with other people?" Dean was curious as to how this dancer ended up a pilot.

Castiel smiled a little, thinking of how much that was not the case. He had never really become comfortable around lots of people and the fact that the Army would force him into so much teamwork and interaction was a reason that he had almost not joined.

He huffed a small laugh, "Not exactly. I really just wanted to fly. I became very interested in flight as a young child. I don't know why. Something about flight just clicked with me and it was all I ever really wanted to do. The freedom of floating high above the earth just spoke to me. This may sound strange, but I sometimes feel like I belong in the air, like I am more comfortable there than on the ground."

Dean thought that he couldn't think of anything worse. He hated flying, it felt out of control. He liked how grounded he felt behind the wheel of his car, not up in the air.

Castiel continued, "My mother always said that I should have been born with wings because I was created to fly. I was named after Castiel, the angel of Thursday. She would say that I was trying to live up to my name. So she started calling me her angel. Something about that always stuck with me. I felt like I had to fly.

"I planned my career from the time I was in high school, studying aerodynamics and enrolling in ROTC in college so that I could become a pilot. I feel like she was maybe guiding me because everything fell into place when I was assigned my dream job. I got to fly medevac. Maybe it's silly, but it really did make me feel like an angel, not just flying but also saving people."

Dean had stopped eating to listen to Castiel's story. Somehow, seeing Cas as an angel fit perfectly. He had this otherworldly strength and presence to him that Dean couldn't really explain. He could tell how much the man loved flying. It sucked that he wasn't doing it any more.

"Do you miss it, flying?" Dean asked.

"All the time. But I have built a new life. Pamela and I have worked hard to make the studio a success and dancing is something that I love almost as much as flying so I guess I am pretty fortunate."

Shit, there it was again, that reminder that Cas was off limits. He had worked hard to build a life with Pamela after the Army. Dean was determined not to screw that up for Cas. He deserved better. What would an angel who saved people want with a broken soldier who wasn't able to save his own men, anyway?

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Thank you. For listening and just being a good friend. I don't make friends easily and I want you to know that I value what you have done for me."

This was seriously moving into chick flick territory and Dean could feel that niggle of dread rising the way it did when he felt exposed. "Well, someone had to teach you about the finer things in life, Cas. No one should go through life without knowing who Darth Vader is. Stick with me, I will lead you to the force."

"Who's the more foolish: the fool, or the fool who follows him?" Castiel smirked at Dean.

"Dude, did you just quote Obi Wan to me? Cas, you're awesome!"

* * *

After dinner, Castiel asked Dean to drop him off at home. After a few glasses of wine, he didn't want to drive his car. When Dean parked outside of Castiel's home, though, he was reluctant to end their time together.

"It's still early. You can come in if you like," he asked Dean with some hesitation.

Castiel climbed the stairs to his apartment hating his traitorous heart. He didn't want to fall in love with Dean Winchester. He had been hurt enough. He didn't think he could ever fall in love again and now here he was wasting his heart on an unattainable man. Maybe he was doing it on purpose. If he only loved someone he couldn't have, there was no risk in being loved back just to eventually lose that love. He was a little drunk and his head was fuzzy and he didn't like where his brain was going.

Once upstairs, he kicked off his shoes and headed to the kitchen, "What can I get you?" he called over his shoulder while leaning down to see what was in his refrigerator.

"How about a beer?"

Castiel grabbed two bottles, headed back into the living room and handed one to Dean before he sat down in the corner of couch, tucking one leg under him. "So, you listened to me ramble on tonight at the restaurant, it's your turn. Tell me something about you."

Dean leaned forward, looked Castiel straight in the eye, pouted his lips (which was absolutely adorable) and said, "My name is Dean Winchester, I'm an Aquarius, I like long walks on the beach and frisky women."

"And you're a jackass," laughed Castiel.

"So it's been said. Seriously, though, what do you want to know?" He leaned back into his corner of the couch and took a swig of his beer, slinging his arm over the back of the couch looking comfortable and at ease.

"Well, you know what I did in the Army, why did you join?

"Well, when I was 18 and Sam was 14 we were in a car accident that killed my dad. He was drunk and we were moving again. I had, uh, gotten in trouble the week before the accident and he was really pissed at me. He never looked at me the same after that and then he was killed instantly. I never got a chance to make things right with him. I don't know, I guess I always felt like it was my fault. We wouldn't have been in the car that night, moving again, if it wasn't for me." Dean couldn't believe he had just told Cas about that night. He never liked to talk about it at all. Fuck, what had he done? Just told his friend that he was responsible for his own father's death, that's what. He brought a hand up and dragged it over his mouth, breathing out slow and long, not wanting to see a look of shock or disgust that Cas would invariably feel.

But that look never came. Instead, Cas narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Dean felt like he was being studied.

"Dean, you were 18. Whatever you did, you are not responsible for your father's choices. He chose to drink and drive. He chose to not try to talk to his own son after your fallout. You can't continue to blame yourself."

Dean felt claustrophobic. He couldn't sit still any longer and he bolted off the couch, walking around the room like a caged tiger. He could feel the angry rush of blood through his veins, making his limbs tingle with the unease. The feeling that he described as swirling had become all too familiar since the war. The doctor called it PTSD. Dean called it fucked up. The thrum of nervousness that pounded through his body was making him feel suffocated.

"Fuck, Cas. You don't know. You don't know what it's like to be such a disappointment. Your mom, she fuckin' adored you! I mean look at that picture. You were her goddamn little angel! And you're talented and smart and fucking saved people. I wasn't even able to keep my family alive! I couldn't keep any of them alive. They all burned, Cas. My dad, my men. There was so much blood and fire and I could smell 'em burning. And I failed. I wasn't good enough to save him."

He brought his hands to his face pressing into his eyes with his wrists, hoping the pressure would help clear his head. He felt the familiar panic rising in his chest, the tingling in his limbs, buzzing in his head. Shit, not another anxiety attack!

He hadn't realized that Cas had gotten up until he felt a hand on his arm. He looked at the source of the hand and up into Castiel's eyes, where he found not judgment or pity, but acceptance. The hand on his arm grounded and calmed him with its solid warmth and he felt the panic that was rising start to drain. He let out a ragged breath that he hadn't known he was holding. "I couldn't save 'em, Cas," was all that came out like a whispered prayer.

"I know," Castiel soothed and guided Dean back over to the couch. They sat there in silence for several long minutes, Dean staring at the ground while Castiel waited patiently perched on the corner of the couch.

Dean finally broke the spell, looking over at Castiel, "Sorry, Cas. Didn't mean to spill on you like that."

"Dean, you have nothing to apologize for." He turned to face Dean fully and shared with him a warm smile that did something to Dean's insides.

Dean needed to break the tension, needed to douse the burning anxiety so he broke the silence, "You still wanna hear about my Army days?"

"Whatever you are comfortable with, Dean."

"Sorry, I promise, no more Psycho moments," Dean tried a halfhearted laugh, "So, anyway, Sam and I moved in with Bobby. We were there three years when the little braniac got accepted early to Stanford. I was workin' a couple of jobs and, I just… I think I just didn't want to be at Bobby's without Sam. I don't know. Maybe from all those years living on the road, three years at Bobby's had made me restless. And I knew Sam was going to need money for college. He got a full ride, but that doesn't include all of his living expenses so I joined up and started sending him as much as I could. Best investment I ever made."

They continued to talk long into the evening. Dean couldn't believe how comfortable he was sharing all of his crap with Cas. He had never met anyone who got him the way Cas did. He vowed not to do anything to screw this up. At some point, both men drifted off, feeling a little buzzed, contented and relaxed in each other's company.


	9. Dance With Me

The next morning Dean woke up disoriented with the soft sound of music playing from somewhere nearby. He was lying on a couch and someone had thrown a blanket over him. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, looking to find the source of the music. Now he understood why Castiel's loft had a large unused space, it wasn't wasted at all. He had his own small dance floor.

Now that he looked closer he could see that on one wall were a couple of mirrors and in the corner a chair and small stereo. The lighting in the apartment and on the dance floor was dim, just a small lamp casting a warm glow and deep shadows over the space. In the quiet calm of the early morning din, Castiel was dancing.

Dean lay as still as he could, not wanting to disturb his friend. He recognized the music again. Yeah, Cas had great taste. This time it was the Beatles' _Blackbird_. Today's dance was much more relaxed than the one he had witnessed before. This dance was lighter, but still expressive. He could read both melancholy and hope in this dance.

Dean watched the long lines of Castiel's arms as he stretched his finely toned muscles over his bared back. He was perfection. The soft light shaded Castiel's face so that Dean couldn't make out his expression. He noticed, with fascination, that Castiel had a tattoo on his side, just above his right hip. It was small and simple, but he couldn't make out what the image was.

Dean watched, transfixed, as Castiel turned his body into artwork. He spun around in a smooth pirouette into an arabesque, arms outstretched and one leg extended high behind him, then immediately tucked town into a roll to splay across the floor, arching his back and stretching his limbs to the music. It was hypnotizing to behold.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly._

_All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive._

Dean smiled as he thought he understood the meaning of the music and the dance. Castiel, the angel, grounded but with the promise of flying again. The thought made him hopeful. He wanted Cas to be able to fly again. He could tell how much he missed it and wanted to see this man happy.

When the music died down, he applauded and stood up to walk over towards Cas, "That's awesome."

Cas grabbed his towel and wiped himself down, blushing and silently thanking God that it was too dark in the room for Dean to see his flushed face clearly. "Thank you, but really, I was just playing around. It was more exercise than anything else."

"Well, it looked awesome to me. You've seen what a mess I am at dancing. I think poor Charlie is ready to give up on me."

Cas let out a small chuckle. "No, Dean, believe me, I have seen much worse. It will come. You just need to relax and trust that you can lead a dance. Here let me show you."

Cas moved to Dean's side, standing next to him, their shoulders just a few inches apart. "OK, bend your right knee and feel the stretch of your left leg through your hip. Now slowly straighten your right leg as you roll your hip and bend your left knee." Dean looked skeptical but followed the instructions. "Not, bad but still a little stiff. Now, continue repeating that pattern and give your hips a slight twist each time, kind of like a figure eight."

Dean felt silly, but tried to follow Castiel's instructions. "Cas, I think I am too old and stiff for this, especially first thing in the morning."

"Nonsense, the exercise and stretching are good for you. Here, do you mind?" Castiel stood behind Dean with his hands hovering over the man's hips. Dean thought this was one of the stranger things he had ever done, but nodded his assent. Castiel brought his hands down to cover Dean's hips and gently pulled them back and forth, twisting them in the pattern he had described.

Dean swallowed thickly and closed his eyes when he felt those hands on his hips. He sensed the heat from them seeping through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Felt the gentle push and pull of those hands, rhythmic and hypnotic. As the two men rocked together, the song changed to REO Speedwagon's _I Can't Fight this Feeling_. Even with Cas standing back a step, Dean felt as though he could feel the heat from the other man's body radiating along his entire back. He let himself be led and swayed with the music.

_I can't fight this feeling any longer, _

_And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow_

_What started out as friendship has grown stronger, _

_I only wish I had the strength to let it show_

Dean listened to the music and words of the song and smiled to himself that they were hitting just a little too close to home for his current situation. God, how did he get himself into this?

"That's good, Dean." Castiel's voice came from behind him, low and raw. Fuck, but he wanted to hear those exact words from Cas' mouth in a little different scenario. Damn, he was going to have to clear these thoughts from his head before the evidence of his fantasies started showing through his jeans.

_I tell myself that I can't hold out forever, _

_I said there is no reason for my fear_

'_Cause I feel so secure when we're together, _

_You give my life direction, you make everything so clear_

"Good, now that you are feeling the music, I am going to be Charlie. Let me see you lead." Castiel removed his hands from Dean's hips and moved around to take dance position in front of him, putting his left hand on Dean's bicep and right hand into Dean's left. Dean couldn't believe he was doing this, dancing with another man. It felt surreal. How was this his life?

Dean's eyes drifted down the body of the man in his arms. His bare chest was toned and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. His sweatpants hung low on his hips exposing sharp hips and the top of a perfect V that his fingers itched to trace. Just under his navel, Dean could see where a thin trail of dark hair began. He took in the sight as the man's hips rocked with his in a way that was almost obscene. This was seriously one of the hottest things that had ever happened to him and here he was, unable to act on it.

_And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight_

_You're a candle in the wind on a cold, dark winter's night_

_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might_

"OK, now quick, quick, slow," Castiel instructed as they began moving together. Dean couldn't believe it, he was actually getting it right. This felt right, the dance was smooth and sexy and Castiel fit perfectly in front of him. He was actually enjoying this. It would be so easy to close the gap between them and kiss those amazing lips that were softly whispering the timing of the music. No, he needed to stop thinking like that.

"Well done, Dean. You've got it." Dean looked at the man in front of him, smiling encouragingly. From this close Dean was mesmerized by the cerulean blue of those eyes, dark now in the dim lighting. His dark hair was in disarray, flattened down against his forehead with sweat, framing his smiling face. Dean didn't think he had ever seen anyone so beautiful.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and let himself get lost in his fantasy. He could pretend that Cas was in his arms, bodies moving as one because they belonged together and not just as a teacher. God, he wanted Cas that way. He couldn't remember the last time someone had made him feel so comfortable. The way they talked and the way that Cas just got him and understood what he needed. And even last night, when he felt a panic attack coming on, Cas' solid calm had brought him back down. He wanted to stay like this with Cas, wanted the song to never end, and to keep this man in his arms forever.

'_Cause I can't fight this feeling any more_

_I've forgotten what I started fighting for_

_And if I had to crawl upon the floor_

_Come crashing through your door_

_Baby, I can't fight this feeling any more. _

As the song came to a close, Castiel let go of Dean's hand and arm and Dean immediately felt empty with the loss of the touch. "Thanks, man, now maybe I won't make such a fool of myself at the wedding."

"I'm sure you will do splendidly," Castiel assured Dean.

An awkward silence began to fall between them until Dean cleared his throat. "How 'bout some breakfast? You got some eggs and bacon? I'm actually a pretty good cook if you want me to make us something."

"I believe I have everything you would need to make breakfast, and I'd love to try your cooking. Would you mind if I took a moment to get cleaned up? I've also left a towel and spare toothbrush out for you in the washroom if you would like to freshen up."

"Woah, Cas," Dean grinned, "you have that many people staying overnight that you keep a stash of toothbrushes?"

"Hardly," groaned Castiel with an eye roll. "Pamela buys them so that she will have one for when she falls asleep here."

And there it is again, that reminder that Cas was with Pamela. Maybe it was a good thing to keep reminding himself to keep his distance.

Castiel went to take a shower while Dean washed his face and brushed his teeth then went to raid the kitchen. Pretty soon the smell of bacon was filling the apartment. When Castiel came back into the kitchen, Dean was surprised to see him in belted dark blue jeans, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black vest. Damn, he looked sexy.

"Going somewhere special?" Dean inquired as he scooped eggs and three bacon slices onto a plate that he handed to Castiel.

"Thank you," Castiel smiled as he took the plate and sat on a stool under the kitchen's small island. "I try to attend church services on Sunday mornings."

"Church goer, huh? Yeah, not a believer myself." Dean piled several slices of bacon on his own plate and shoved another into his mouth and plopped down in the stool next to Castiel.

"You have no faith in a higher power?" Castiel did that head tilt thing and looked at Dean as though he were trying to see inside of him.

"Listen, if there's anyone up there he either has a really sick sense of humor or he just doesn't care."

"I see. I have found the opposite to be true. I grew up with my mother's faith and it has gotten me through many difficult times. I find a comfort and serenity that comes from believing that there is a reason why things happen. There have been times when I questioned and doubted but I believe that is part of being human. I always come back to my faith, though."

"Well, you are welcome to it. If there's a God and I ever meet him, I am going to have a few choice words to say."

Castiel smiled as he bit off some bacon. "Even with my beliefs, I believe I will have a fair amount of questions for Him as well. It is impossible for us to understand why bad things happen. To me it comes down to free will. Much of human suffering is caused by poor human decisions, something that is a by-product of free will. If we truly want utopia and peace, I believe it would require us to give up our freedom."

"Yeah, I suppose. But that doesn't excuse shit like cancer that killed my mother and destroyed my father." Dean was getting frustrated and shoveling his food faster.

"That is certainly one of the big questions. It's something that I don't understand but I continue to seek Him regardless."

"Yeah, my mom always said angels were watching over me but it doesn't seem to have done me any good yet."


	10. Friday I'm In Love - The Cure

By Friday Dean was completely beat after a long day at the shop. Today was all engine work, necessary, but not the fun stuff. It was the first day all week that Cas hadn't been at the shop. They had put the finishing touches on Cas' Austin-Healey the day before and the car was sitting on the other side of the shop, gleaming and beautiful with its final coat of paint.

He had spent over a month working with Cas on the car and now, the shop had felt empty without him. Dean found that he missed the companionship and missed being able to teach Cas new things about restoration. It wasn't like he worked alone. There was Bobby and his crew of mechanics always coming and going as well as his own small team of two, which included Victor Henrickson, his body work specialist and Krissy Chambers, paint artist. Victor had worked for Dean almost since he opened the shop and had proven himself to be a valuable asset.

Krissy was a more recent hire, having been brought on about six months ago. But she may have been the best business decision Dean had ever made. The kid may have been just out of high school, working her way through art school, but she was already a master with an air brush. Dean was the visionary who decided what the car's paint should look like, but Krissy's hands brought that vision to life.

Dean had also had a new customer come in today with a 1957 Ford Thunderbird. This car was going to be amazing. It was a two-seater hard top convertible with a V6 312 engine. He could already visualize her in candy-apple red with broad white-walled tires, maybe flames on the sides. Flames were never his preference, a little too cliché, but somehow it felt kind of fitting for the car model and for this customer.

Her name was Josie Abaddon and she strutted into his office like she owned the place, her high heels clicking exclamation points across the floor with every step. She was stunning with her red hair pulled up in a French twist, perfect cat-eye makeup and ruby red lipstick. Her clothes were all black and tight, a short black leather jacket over a tight-fitting t-shirt with a sexy red devil-lady on it saying "The Devil made me do it." Maybe some fire for this fiery red head, Dean had thought when he saw her.

"Dean Winchester," she purred, "I have heard about you. Josie Abaddon." She extended her hand with the palm facing down and fingers splayed out. Wait, what? That isn't a handshake pose it is a kiss-my-hand pose. Dean almost looked around for a hidden camera. This had to be a joke. He extended his hand to hers and clapped it into a firm handshake. Sorry, not kissing hands!

"Nice to meet you, Josie."

She flashed him a million dollar smile and cocked one eyebrow. "I hear you can work miracles with classic cars. I've got a Thunderbird out there that I want restored. And it needs to be finished in time to be displayed at the summer air show. The design of the car should reflect the name of my company, Phoenix Specialty Aircrafts."

OK, so fire it is, thought Dean. Not too often he nails the design before the customer even says a word. Hell on wheels was more like it.

"I'll have to take a look at it and see what needs done, but well, if the timeline is that firm I can bring in some extra help, but it will increase the cost."

"Perfect. Please proceed with your inspection and have a quote to me by Monday morning. I am sure we will be able to do business together. I will make the finances work if you make the timeline work. They don't call me the queen for nothing." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her business card, holding it out to Dean between two perfectly manicured fingers. Dean took the card and with a turn on her heels, she was gone.

The whole scene was surreal. Seriously, who was this chick? Well, keeping in mind that money seemed like no object to this woman, he went out to take a look at the car. When he spotted the car, he was pretty sure this job was going to be fun. The body was solid, just a few rust spots here and there and it didn't look like it had ever been wrecked. The engine was original and in pretty bad shape. He could see someone had tried to soup up the carburetor and now the damn thing was flooding the engine. Idiots, he thought, he hated cleaning up after backyard mechanics who didn't really know what they were doing. The car had so much potential, though, and phoenix, seriously? His mind was already racing with ideas of how he could incorporate beautiful firebird imagery.

He made a mental note to start surfing Google for phoenix images for inspiration come Monday. He shot off a quick e-mail and was ready to close down for the day and go meet Sam for their weekly after work drink. They started their tradition of meeting every Friday at The Roadhouse when Dean first got back from Afghanistan and this tradition had helped keep them both grounded ever since.

* * *

Sam was sitting at their favorite booth getting in a few end of the day e-mails before he could close his laptop for the evening. He had already shed his suit jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves, feeling more comfortable already. Growing up in jeans and plaids, he sometimes envied Dean's casual wear. He loved being a lawyer but could do without the monkey suits.

This week had been especially tiring. He was working on a high-profile case that involved employees being exposed to dangerous materials in their workplace that the employer had tried to cover up. Sam and his team had built a really solid case for the workers, but it was still going to be a long, drawn out process against a big corporation.

Now with the added pressure of a nearing wedding date, Sam was hoping that he could have a stress free visit with his brother. He loved that he and Dean had kept this tradition of meeting once a week for drinks. Dean could almost always cheer him up. He loved to give Dean a hard time about his endless pop culture references and ridiculous jokes but really, he kind of enjoyed them (but he would deny that vehemently if anyone ever asked).

Just as he hit send on the last e-mail of the evening, Dean slid into the booth across from him with a beer in each hand. "Hey there, Sammy, still working?"

"Just finishing…. done!" He declared, shutting his laptop and leaning back in the booth. "Thanks for the drink. It's been a long week."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"It's just this case and all the wedding stuff. I am so ready for it to finally be here. Speaking of wedding stuff, you were really weird at dance class this week. What is going on with you? Did you strike out with Pamela?"

Dean _was_ acting strange. If he didn't know better, he would say Dean almost seemed like he was hiding something. Sam thought maybe he was just uncomfortable because he had asked out Pamela and gotten shot down. He had seen Dean act like this in the past when he was trying to protect himself from getting hurt.

"Nah, didn't even try. She's dating Cas."

"Ummm, Dean, are you sure?" That was a surprise to Sam, who had seen Pamela flirt with any number of guys at the gym.

"Yeah, it's cool, though. I'm not sure I'm really interested in her anyway."

Sam was smart, really smart and he could totally read between those lines. Dean may not be interested in Pamela, but there was definitely someone. "I know that look, Dean. There is definitely a girl you are interested in, who is she?"

Dean huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes and looked, what was that, guilty, scared? "No, Sammy! Trust me, there's no girl," Dean said looking positively miserable. Oh great, what had his brother gotten himself into, now? Sam could tell something was unquestionably going on. But he knew his brother well enough to know that pushing the issue (at least while they were still sober) was a lost cause. It looks like we are going to have to kick it up to whisky tonight, thought Sam as he made a mental note to text Jess and let her know he would be later than planned.

"Dean, are you OK?"

"Dude, I'm fine. What makes you think something is wrong?"

"Because you're my big brother. I have been watching you and emulating you my entire life. I have your mannerisms memorized and I can tell when something is bothering you."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, another sign that Sam recognized as Dean contemplating his options. He waited patiently, knowing that Dean was like a cornered animal when it came to opening up. He had to approach carefully, make no sudden movements, and let Dean come to him when he is ready. God, he thought, with an internalized eye roll, he loved his brother with all his heart, but he was a difficult man to know.

Dean finished off the rest of his beer in several long gulps, put down the glass and ran his hand over his face, taking a long breath. When he looked back up at Sam he began slowly, "Fine, Samantha, you win. You want to talk about feelings? There is something. It's… well…you know I have been –"

"Hey, amigos!" Just then, Ash showed up at their table, clapping a hand on Dean's shoulder putting his laptop on the table in front of him. "How are my two favorite Winchesters tonight?" Ash decided to make himself comfortable sliding into the booth next to Dean. Sam shot Ash one of his best bitch faces.

"Hey, Ash, good to see you," smiled Dean, plastering on his best grin, all chances of Sam getting anything out of him now lost. "What'cha got for me?"

"Well, first of all, your new lady friend? Should be very good for you. Check it out," he said as he opened the laptop and began clicking away furiously, "She's pretty brilliant, and that's coming from me. She moved up to CEO of Phoenix at 28 years old and has run the company for the last 3 years, increasing their profits each year. Here, you want to see her taxes? How 'bout her home security cameras?"

"No, Ash, sheesh, how do you even get access to that?"

"I'm that good! Anyway, she likes the finer things, see?" He clicked through pictures of her wearing top of the line clothes, shaking hands with A-list celebrities and driving expensive cars. "That means you will really have to impress this one."

Sam liked the sound of this. He didn't even have to get Dean to fess up, Ash had spilled the beans. Now he knew exactly why Dean didn't want to talk about it. Dean liked this woman who was beautiful, rich, and successful. Dean was the consummate lady's man but he was terribly self-depreciating and probably thought he wasn't good enough for this lady. Sam just hoped that he could convince Dean that anyone with half a brain should be able to see how great he really is.

Dean squinted at the laptop screen, "Wait, is that her with the President, Bill Gates, oh my God, Robert Downey, Jr.? Fuck, she knows Iron Man! What the hell is she doing with me?"

"Maybe it's fate." Sam chimed in with a big smile, excited to be encouraging Dean's new romance.

Dean and Ash both looked up from the laptop at him at exactly the same time giving him quizzical looks.

"Oh kaaaay," said Ash and turned back to the laptop. "Anyway, I also queried the Internet for all '57 Thunderbird parts for sale, cross referenced for price, shipping costs, and quality rating and there you have your perfect list of parts suppliers."

"What do you mean you queried the _whole_ Internet?" Sam asked.

"What, like it's hard?" Ash said as he flipped his glorious mullet back. "Not for Dr. Badass!"

Dean and Sam looked at each other and shared identical eyebrow raises and shoulder shrugs. "Thanks, Ash. Next round's on me."

Ash stayed and chatted with the boys for the next three rounds of shots. They talked about rock and roll and Ash's latest hookups. Sam was always surprised at how popular Ash was with the ladies. "It's the hair," he had told them, "ladies love something to grab onto." To which Sam and Dean cracked up and downed another shot. They were feeling buzzed and happy when Ash left to go play pool and Sam took the opportunity to prod Dean about this new lady.

"I know why you didn't want to tell me who you were interested in, Dean."

"You do? What... how… wait…" Dean froze in place stammering, not knowing what to say. Sam's buzzed mind thought it was actually kind of cute, his big brother with a crush on this beautiful lady.

"You don't think you are good enough, but you are. And I'm not just saying that because you are my brother or because I'm kind of drunk. Really, Dean, any one would be lucky to have you. This Josie lady sounds great. You should go for it. I know it's been rough for you lately but I believe there is a light at the end of this tunnel. Maybe it can be with her."

Dean's face changed. The panic was gone, replaced by that sad resigned look he had on his face earlier. "Ugh, Sam, you are one happy drunk. And you've got it completely wrong. Josie is just a customer. She came in today with a Thunderbird to restore. She was a little over the top so I asked Ash to check her out for me."

"Wait, so I thought you were interested in someone? Not Josie?"

"No, it's actually more complicated than that. It's just… hard for me to talk about, you know?

"Dean, whatever it is, you can tell me."

Dean leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed. "OK, here goes nothing. It's just that I… Well, I kind of… Fuck it! Sam, -I"

"Another round courtesy of the hotties at the bar." It was Jo with a tray full of shots that she put down on the table then slid onto the booth next to Sam, nudging him over with her hip. She put her feet up on the booth next to Dean and downed one of the shots. Seriously? This was like some bad rom-com, thought Sam.

"That blonde has been undressing you with her eyes all night, Sam. Don't worry, I told her that you were completely off the market, but Dean, the pretty Asian girl wanted to buy this round anyway because she has her eye on you."

Dean glanced over to the bar at the ladies. Jo was right, they were both pretty. He gave them a little nod and two finger thank you sign but his smile was halfhearted.

Jo rolled her eyes and smirked at Dean, "So will it be the usual, Dean? I'm thinking sex-on-the-beach for Barbie and maybe purple nurple for Lucy Liu?"

"Nah, not tonight."

"Woah, feeling OK?"

"It seems our Dean here has his eye on some other lucky lady," Sam told Jo. "I thought it was this Josie, but turns out she is just a customer and he's not spilling."

"Sam, just… no." Dean didn't like where this was going. He took another swallow of his beer and racked his brain for a way to change the subject quickly. "Jo, you got time for a game of pool? Grab Ash for some doubles and let's see if we take some money from him and Sam."

"Sounds like fun. Go get 'em racked while I deliver a couple of drinks and let Mom know I'm taking my break."

Dean was relieved that his diversion worked. He grabbed his beer and headed over to the pool table where he lined up the balls tightly in their triangle and chalked his cue in silence. He was feeling anxious and really needed a distraction from the set of blue eyes that he couldn't get out of his head. He lined up, took a deep breath and released his tension into the stick as he heard the familiar crack of the break and satisfying plop of the six ball dropping into the corner pocket. The game was on.

Half an hour later, two shots drunker and twenty dollars poorer, Dean was ready to call pool a loss for the night, his mind not really in the game. Jo, who was definitely not used to losing, wasn't happy and huffed back to her customers as soon as the game had ended. The Friday night crowd was starting to fill the bar and Dean was feeling claustrophobic.

"Sam, can we just go? It's getting a little too crowded in here."

"Yeah, sure. Let me call Jess to pick us up. You can sleep at our place tonight."

Outside, they sat on the hood of the Impala, waiting to be picked up. The night was clear and warm and they both sat, just looking up at the sky for a long moment that was heavy with what was unspoken between them. Finally, Dean broke the silence. "Sam, you were right. There is someone. But it's an impossible situation and it's just so fucked up."

Sam looked over at his brother, who now had his full attention. "Whenever you are ready to talk about it, you know I am here for you, Dean."

"Yeah, I know. You ever fall for someone completely unexpected? Like, there is no way that is should have happened but suddenly you're kind of in over your head?"

"I think we have all been there."

"Well, I that's kinda what happened to me and they are perfect and gorgeous and fucking unattainable in so many ways." Dean took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. Sam waited patiently for his brother to continue. He knew how hard it was for Dean to open up and was trying to give him the space he needed. Finally, after several quiet moments of Dean leaning over into his hand he burst out, "Fuck it! It's Cas, Sam. And he is taken and too good for me and he's a guy!"

Well, that explains a lot, thought Sam. He knew about Michael and he knew what Dean had done a few times for money when they were younger, having walked in one time and backed out before he could be spotted. He never said a word about it and didn't think Dean ever would either.

"First of all, Dean. It's fine with me that you like guys. I kind of always knew. I mean there was Michael."

"Wait, you knew about Michael?"

"Yeah, well, Dad was a loud mouth drunk and I heard him ranting about it after that fight you guys had. Plus I spent a whole spring hanging out with you two. I could tell how much you liked him."

Dean sighed, "It's weird. I don't feel gay. It's not like I am checking out guys. It's just Cas. He is, I don't know, different." Dean leaned his head down and groaned into his hand.

Sam smiled and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I sincerely doubt you are gay, probably bi. I mean you are mostly attracted to girls with just a few exceptions, right? Sounds like you are pretty low on the Kinsey scale."

"What the hell is that?"

"Basically, there is a whole range of bisexuality from, like you, pretty much hetero with a few notable exceptions to just the opposite where someone is almost completely into the same sex."

"What the fuck, dude? Do you sit up at night browsing gay websites for information like that?"

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. "In college for one of my Psych classes I had to write a paper on an aspect of human sexuality."

"I can't believe I am having this fucking conversation. Wanna go watch Oprah and get pedicures while drinking herbal tea?"

"Shut up, jerk." Sam smirked at Dean.

"Back at ya, bitch."

They sat for a long time in silence until finally Dean almost whispered, "Thanks, man."

"Any time. And Dean, maybe you should talk to Cas?"

Sam got no response.


	11. Baby You Can Drive My Car - The Beatles

Dean woke up, face down on Sam's couch with a screaming headache and a full bladder. He chanced opening one eye to get his bearings and was greeted with the oppressing sun beaming a stream of morning right across his face. He groaned and cursed and swore that he would never drink that much again even though he knew it was a lie. On the coffee table in front of him was a tall glass of water and a few Ibuprofen. Oh, bless Jess!

He rolled off the couch and headed to the bathroom to relieve himself. While he was in there, he spotted his reflection in the mirror and in that moment last night came rushing back to him. Oh, fuck! Had he seriously come out to his brother? Suddenly the dull headache that was fogging his thoughts was replaced by a searing wave of pain as the adrenaline compounded his hangover.

Stumbling back into the living room, he sat back down on the couch and downed the pills and water in several long gulps then leaned back on the couch, resting his arm across his eyes. He could feel the familiar anxiety rising up inside of him, flooding his veins with tension delivered to every cell of his body. He could hear his heart beat fast and loud enough that he couldn't believe it wasn't waking up Jess and Sam. It was pounding in his ears.

Flashes of mangled bodies, gunshots, and the smell of blood and gunpowder were starting to overwhelm his senses. His breathing became more shallow and he leaned forward with his face in his hands trying to get enough air into his constricted chest.

Then he felt a hand, solid and soft, in the center of his back. "Dean, are you OK?" Jess' soft whisper came from above him as she settled down next to him on the couch, not leaving any space between their bodies. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and held him steady.

Dean was suddenly back in the present, safe in his brother's home. There was no war happening all around him and he could breathe again. He practiced his breathing technique and brought his body back to normal, eventually leaning back into the soft couch with Jess. She took her arm off his shoulder and held his hand instead, resting it over his knee. She leaned her head on his shoulder and he tilted his to rest in her soft blonde curls. He thought of how lucky his brother was to have someone like Jess. He wished that there could someday be a person in his life like this. He really wished that that person could be Cas.

"Thanks, Jess. This PTSD crap sometimes comes out of nowhere."

"Of course. You know I am always here for you, right?"

Dean squirmed. This was getting a little uncomfortable. "So what next? Should we braid each other's hair and paint our nails? Isn't that what you and Sammy do at your slumber parties?"

"Ugh, Dean, you are impossible." Jess groaned and laughed and squeezed his hand. "Come on, let's get some breakfast into you then I'll take you to pick up your car."

The two of them ate scrambled eggs and toast and a generous amount of coffee while discussing wedding plans and Sam's latest case and the Dean's bizarre new customer. Then they headed out to The Roadhouse. As they pulled in Jess asked Dean, "How do you feel about being an uncle?"

"What? Jess, are you?"

"No, not yet, but I think we are going to try soon after the wedding. If I plan it right, I can have the baby in the spring and have all summer off with it before I have to go back to teaching in the fall."

"Oh my God, Jess, that's great! I will definitely be that awesome uncle that buys the kids loud toys, lets them play in the dirt and ruin their clothes, and someone will have to teach them good music."

Jess smiled at Dean and she was perfect. She was smart and beautiful and she loved his brother and was going to be an awesome mother. "That's exactly the kind of uncle I want you to be. He's scared, you know, of what kind of father he'll be."

"Shit, he's probably afraid of being like our dad. I'll talk to him."

"I think he'd appreciate that. They say you become like the people who raised-"

"Jess, no, Sam won't be like that. He is better than that."

"You didn't let me finish, Dean. They say you become like the people who raised you. That's why I know that Sam will be a wonderful father. It wasn't John who made Sam into the man he is today. It was you, Dean. You raised him, in every way that matters, and I would be proud if he was the kind of father to our children that you were to him."

Dean didn't know what to say. He felt a lump in his throat that threatened to take his manhood if he tried to make a sound. Instead he leaned over and hugged his soon-to-be-sister-in-law.

"I love you, Dean."

"I know." Dean kissed her forehead and got out of the car. This was starting to turn into a good day. He was going to meet up with Cas today and take the roadster out for its first drive.

Maybe it was still the high from the conversation with Jess, but Dean was feeling pretty good. He made a quick stop at home to get cleaned up and in the shower ran over a thousand scenarios in his head of what he could say to Cas. The problem was there never seemed to be a right thing to say. How do you tell your best friend (and a guy at that), who is with someone else, that you think you have feelings for him and not have him run for the hills?

Dean's confession scenarios became more and more outlandish in his mind and pretty soon found their way to emulating a bad porno. Yeah, he was pretty sure that showing up at Cas's door with a pizza in hand wearing nothing but a smile would get him arrested before it got him ravished against a wall, but a guy could dream couldn't he? And that just sent blood straight to Dean's traitorous dick. What the hell, might as well make the best of his crazy situation. With Cas' blue eyes and perfect long hands in his mind, Dean imagined what it would be like to look into those eyes while those hands explored his body and those incredible hips rocked against his so obscenely. Dean worked himself with furious strokes and called Cas' name as he reached his climax.

With a thousand thoughts swimming through his head, he headed to the shop and found Cas waiting for him on the stoop. The morning was cool and he was hunched over his cup of coffee, warming his hands with it, the steam rising around his face bathing him in an otherworldly glow. Dean's heart skipped a beat. Cas was beautiful sitting there with those damn blue eyes looking up at him, so bright and clear in the morning sunlight.

"Morning' Cas. You're here early."

"I couldn't sleep and there is something I wanted to talk to you about." As Cas said this, his eyes shifted down nervously and Dean could see that there was something heavy weighing on his friend.

Shit, thought Dean. He knew this was too good to last. Now that they were done with the car, maybe Cas didn't want to spend time together any more. Maybe Cas was just pretending to like him all this time to get his help. Damn, he felt like such a sucker!

"Sure, whatever. Want to get her started up and we can talk on the road?" He had said it harsher than he meant but he couldn't help it. This sucked and he was pissed. He knew there was no reason a guy like Cas would want to spend time with someone like him. Cas was awesome. He was smart and sexy, talented and well read. What would he want with an ex-grunt with a GED? Typical officer thinking he is better than us grunts, he thought. Dean walked in the door and was grateful that Victor was already there. He wouldn't have to wait around for anyone to show up before he could head out. He really wanted to get this over with.

Seated in the passenger seat, Castiel steeled himself for the conversation that he needed to have. He didn't know how Dean would react to his sexuality but he didn't want to keep this part of him secret from Dean any more. They headed west with Dean driving. He had requested to drive the car first so that he could feel how the engine was working. Driving, he could connect with the car and feel for pops, skips or grinds. Castiel was happy to oblige, feeling jittery and exposed enough without worrying about the road.

After about 30 minutes of Dean talking about the car, making mental notes of how each system was functioning, testing the breaks, the alignment, and the transmission, he felt pretty proud of a job well done. There was very little that needed tweaked on this car. When he couldn't think of anything else to say about the car, he glanced over at Cas and saw that he was wringing his hands and staring out the window like he was a prisoner in this car.

"Cas, talk to me. What's going on with you today?"

Cas looked at Dean with one of his patented squints and head tilts, which Dean found kind of adorable, and knock it off, Winchester! You can't be pining for a guy who is about to tell you to take a hike.

"Now that we are done with the car, I thought that I might drive it down to Texas to visit Balthazar's grave. You have helped me face that part of my life and I feel like I need to do this one final thing for closure. I wasn't able to attend his funeral and I would like to say a final goodbye. I feel like it would help me move on with my life."

Wow, that wasn't what Dean was expecting. He immediately felt stupid for thinking that Cas was going to ditch him. Of course he wouldn't just dump a friend. And Dean didn't want Cas to have to face this on his own so he made a decision.

"Cas, you shouldn't do that alone. I could go with you."

"That isn't necessary. It is a full day's drive. You have spent too much time on me already. It is much more than I could have ever asked for."

"No, I want to, seriously. I'm invested at this point. Shit, you act like it was a bad thing. I had a great time working with you on the car and you aren't asking too much. I am offering." Dean let the offer hang in the silence that followed. "So, you've never been to his grave?"

"No. I was… asked not to attend the funeral." Cas was looking very uncomfortable. His eyes were focused on his hands white knuckled together on his lap until he shifted his view once again out the passenger window.

"What the hell, Cas? Why?"

"Balthazar wasn't my friend. He and I were a couple."

Dean's brain froze up on the spot. Did he hear right? Cas was with a dude? And they were in the Army? There were a thousand questions suddenly swimming around in his mind and his heart was suddenly beating faster, chasing adrenaline through his body.

Cas took a long breath and continued, "We were stationed together and my unit received deployment orders but his didn't. He was an MP and, well, they are pretty interchangeable, so he was able to transfer posts with someone in my battalion so that he could go with me. I begged him not to but in the end, we both ended up in the sandbox. It was on that deployment that he was killed. His family blamed me. They believed that his death was punishment for what they considered sinful behavior and it was my fault that he was even in the desert. And they were right. He would still be alive today if he hadn't followed me over there."

Cas' voice hitched and trailed off. Dean could see that he was holding back tears.

"Cas, you can't blame yourself. And if his family blamed you, then they are total dicks!"

Cas looked at Dean for a long breath and closed his eyes while the corner of his mouth twitched into the slightest hint of a smile. "He used to say the same thing about them. It's really so unfair. He barely kept in touch with them and he wanted me to have his flag, but his brother insisted that I stay away from the funeral. I don't think he wanted anyone to know that Balthazar was gay. Raphael was truly a bully in every sense of the word. He all but disowned Balthazar when he came out and he made every possible attempt to get rid of me. We lived in constant fear that he would destroy our careers, but I guess he was happy with Balthazar being away from home so he didn't expose us. In the end, it wasn't Raphael who exposed us. I did it myself. That's why I left the Army. It wasn't voluntarily, Dean, I was forced out because they found out about us."

Dean immediately felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his little brother, who had been so unbelievably cool about his confession last night. How could someone's own brother want to destroy them just for who they loved? Then he suddenly remembered his own father's reaction to finding him with Michael. Fuck! Why was the world so full of cruelty and intolerance?

"Maybe it would be better if you took Pamela? Would they freak out if you showed up with another dude?"

"Dean, I have no intention of seeing any of them while I am there. And if I did, I am certainly not about to pretend I am someone I'm not at this point. Plus, I believe Pamela has a date this weekend that I wouldn't want to get in the way of."

Dean's brain just went on overload for the third time in one day. So Pamela wasn't with Cas and Cas was into guys? Seriously, this was all just too good to be Dean's life. There had to be a hammer somewhere that was about to fall.

"Wait, I thought you and Pamela were together."

Cas turned to look at Dean like he had just grown another head. "No, we are friends and business partners. To be honest with you, we have been intimate a few times but, no, we were never a couple. It was more, I don't know, comfort? Regardless, it's been well over a year since we have been together and I have no intentions of changing that relationship status"

"But, I saw you kiss her."

Cas thought about this for a minute. "Oh, that must have been the anniversary of Balthazar's death. Yes, I had considered it that day. I was lonely and empty but I realized a long time ago that she was a poor substitute for real love and that what I really needed was to move on. I spent that night alone."

A little red burn of jealousy tried to work its way into Dean, who was trying furiously to stomp it down. After all, he couldn't fault Cas for who he had been with in the past. He wasn't exactly a blushing virgin himself, having had way too many one night stands. Dean made a decision that he wasn't going to screw this up. He would make a move, but not too soon. How tacky would it be to jump they guy's bones who had just confessed everything about his ex to you and was letting you help him say goodbye to said ex. He would have to be patient and supportive and cool about this, which was going to be really fucking hard with Cas sitting beside him looking so damn sexy.

"Dean, our friendship is what has helped me realize it is time to move on. Thank you… for everything."

Dean didn't know what to say. He was so afraid to say something stupid or inappropriate so he opted for a simple, "No problem, Cas." After that, a silence fell in the car and Dean turned to his oldest traveling companions to help calm his nerves, leaning down to pop in a cassette tape. Music began to fill the car with the perfect sounds of Metallica.

_Trust I seek and I find in you_

_every day for us something new_

_open mind for a different view_

_and nothing else matters_.

Dean didn't know where he was going. This was supposed to be a test drive and they were already two hours in. Cas seemed pretty exhausted from this morning's conversation and he had drifted off and was now sleeping peacefully in the seat beside Dean, his head resting on the window. Dean should turn around, head back to the shop but he didn't want this to end. He felt like if he just kept driving he could stop time, suspend it until he could clear his head and keep this man beside him forever.

Eventually, Cas woke up to Dean singing quietly beside him and the sun high in the sky. He recognized the song as Dean sang, _Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better, remember to let her into your heart, then you can start, to make it better_. It was beautiful. The spring breeze was flowing around the car with the smell of fresh cut grass filling his senses. The sun was out and the sky was spotted with delicate wispy clouds. They were traveling across the Kansas plains and the grasses were already thigh high and swaying like a green and golden ocean. And the sound of Dean's voice was saturating him with its tranquility.

At first, he made no move to let Dean know he was awake. He was too content. Maybe this was still a dream because it almost didn't seem real. Slowly, he sat up and turned towards his companion. Dean turned to him and flashed a grin that took his breath away. "Morning, sleepy head." His smile extended through his eyes, that were a stunning shade of green as they reflected the bright spring hues around them. Castiel was mesmerized with the way that smile caused the little crow's feet around his eyes to wrinkle up.

"You hungry? It's almost lunch time and since we have traveled half way across the state, I've got a treat for you." Dean had thought about it as they kept heading west. He remembered one time as kids when they were traveling through they had passed a place called Monumental Rocks. They weren't far from there now so he figured lunch, a little sightseeing and then they could head back. Victor had texted him while Cas was asleep. Everything was fine at the shop so he told him to hold down the fort because he was taking the rest of the day off. He was behind the wheel of a beautiful sports car, miles of open blacktop in front of him, great tunes on the radio and best of all, this man with the sexiest just-woke-up hair was sitting beside him blinking the sleep from his eyes and looking so damn handsome.

"M'kay. How long was I out for?"

"A while, don't worry about it. I decided to make a day of it. Vic's taking care of the shop so I am free the rest of the day." When Cas smiled back at him, Dean was pretty sure this is what heaven must be like.

They stopped at a little greasy spoon and ordered fried chicken, jo jos, potato salad, and of course, pie to go. While they were waiting for the food, they rolled back the soft top on the Austin-Healey and stood back to admire their handiwork. She really did come together perfectly. Dean decided that simplicity was the best decision for this car. He kept the original paint color, a creamy off-white, which was a beautiful contrast to the red leather seats. He hoped silently that he would get to spend many more days driving her around with the top down and Cas beside him.

Food in hand and stomachs growling with the smell of fried chicken wafting from the back seat, they headed out. Soon, the flat Kansas horizon started to look a little different. In the far distance, they could see rocks, huge rocks, 70 foot high limestone monoliths, jutting out of the flatlands like they have absolutely no business being there. It looked like someone dropped a piece of the Arizona desert in the middle of the Kansas grasslands.

Cas' jaw dropped and Dean couldn't help the grin that wouldn't leave his face when he looked over at his friend. "Pretty awesome, huh? My dad brought us through here once. I remember thinking that it was really special because it's something so different in this vast sea of sameness that is the Kansas plains. I don't know, that always kind of stuck with me. Made it feel OK to always be the different kids in school, the ones that didn't have a permanent home."

They parked and took their lunches with them to find a spot in the shade of one of the rocks. They sat on the ground and ate their lunch and made plans to drive to Corpus Christi the following week so that Cas could say goodbye properly. It would be a full day's drive, so they decided to leave early in the morning on Wednesday and make a long weekend out of it. When they were finally full and relaxed, leaning back against a huge rock, Cas reached out and put his hand on Dean's shoulder, "Thank you, Dean, for everything. This place is beautiful and it makes me feel like I am close to one of God's special creations."

"I don't know if there's a God, Cas, but if he is out there, this is definitely one of the best things he made." Dean wasn't referring to the rocks, but Cas didn't have to know that yet. Dean was certain that if there was a God that created everything, Cas was one of his masterpieces. "Wait a minute, Cas, you said you are gay, isn't that, like a problem for you if you are a Christian too?"

"The two are definitely not mutually exclusive. There is, sadly, a very vocal population of people who exploit Christianity to validate their hate, but in my experience, they have been in the minority. Most Christians I have met are accepting of me and really just want to follow in Christ's footsteps. I have even been to a church with a gay pastor. I will never let my faith be dictated to me by those that would manipulate it to spew hatred."

Dean smiled at this. He liked that Cas had a way of saying fuck you to the world in the most polite way he had ever heard.

* * *

Dean had his phone pulled out and was dialing Sam's number before Cas' car was even out of the Singer and Son's parking lot. "Sam, you're not going to believe this."

"Hey, Dean, what's going on?"

"Cas isn't dating Pamela. He's single!"

"That's great, Dean."

"And he's into guys."

"Wow, also great!"

"And next week I am going to Texas with him to visit his dead ex's grave."

"That's…. not so great. Not exactly your typical first date."

"Very funny there, Seinfeld! It's not a date. He wants closure so he can move on."

"And you get to be the supportive shoulder for him to cry on? God, Dean, you've got it bad." Sam laughed to himself at how excited his big brother sounded.

"You're such a girl. Why do I even talk to you?"

"Cause you love me and no one else will put up with your shit," quipped Sam. "But seriously, Dean, I'm really happy for you. Cas is great. Take your time and remember you are there for him."

"Yeah, I don't plan on screwing this one up. Thanks, Sam. By the way, I will be gone through the weekend so no Roadhouse Friday night."

"Have fun and let me know how it goes, and Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Be careful."

"Got it."

Dean hung up and got in the Impala to head home. He had a lot to do. He still had to go over the Thunderbird and write up a quote before Monday morning and make all the necessary arrangements so that the shop could run without him for a few days next week. This was it. This was his chance to be there for Cas. He wasn't going to push even though it took every ounce of willpower he had not to close the distance between them this afternoon and find out if Cas tasted as good as he smelled.

When Cas was eating that pie earlier it was downright pornographic. There was something about his perfect mouth that wrapped around every forkful of the dessert, and when he took his first bite of the cherry pie, his eyes fluttered shut as he moaned in pleasure. Dean watched him rapt, loving the way Cas' tongue darted out and licked a stray spot of cherry filling off the corner of his mouth. Dean had wanted to lay him out right there in the sun and lick the taste of cherry pie from those lips. OK, they were definitely stopping for pie on the way down to Corpus Christi.

Maybe, he thought, he could even have some fun with this, tease Cas a little, turn on the charm and see if he could gauge his effect on Cas. He was good at noticing when he was succeeding with a lady. The blushes, the looking away when you catcher her eye, the biting of the lower lips all little signs that he was well tuned to pick up on a lady. He wondered if Cas would be the same or are guys different? He was really looking forward to how fun this was going to be.


	12. Over The Hills & Far Away - Led Zeppelin

Wednesday morning, (can you even call it morning if the sun isn't out yet?) Castiel pulled up outside of Dean's apartment in the Austin-Healey just before 5AM with two large coffees and a bag of sweets from Dunkin' Donuts. He hesitated before getting out of the car, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He had spent most of the night tossing and turning and wondering if he really wanted to do this. He knew, though, that this was something important. He would never be able to truly move on without this closure.

Dean had given him hope that he even could move on. This last month spent with him was the happiest he had been in years. He could feel the ghost of Balthazar fading and wanted to be able to transition him from constant presence in his life that kept him chained to that day across the world to a beloved memory that he could look back on as proof that he was once loved. Dean had showed him that two working together is stronger than him trying to do it all on his own. Dean had made him laugh and cry and blush and feel more alive than he thought was possible any more. This unexpected friend, who had burst into his life and forged a place for himself where Castiel had thought he wouldn't allow anyone else.

And now, Dean offered his help once again. He was willing to spend two solid days trapped in a cramped car to go visit a stranger's grave for no other reason than to help a friend. He knew that he was falling in love with Dean and that it was a hopeless situation.

He had resigned himself, however, to let friendship be enough and not delude himself with fantasies that Dean would ever want more than that. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Castiel had certainly had his share of fantasies about the man with the sparkling green eyes. But where was the harm in that? He fantasized about George Clooney too, but that certainly wasn't happening either, right? The difference was that he didn't have to ride to Texas beside George, breathing in his intoxicating scent the whole way or listening to that low voice say his name or sing along to the radio. He was in so much trouble.

With a resigned sigh, he knocked on the door, which swung open before he even got to the third knock. "I've been waiting for you." Castiel looked surprised. "You didn't think I would be up this early, did you? The Army trained me well and I never have really gotten out of the habit of being an early riser. I still like to get a little workout in before going into work," he patted his stomach, "try to work off some of those burgers and pies." Dean smiled at Cas, swung his duffle bag over his shoulder and locked the door before heading to the car.

Castiel still hadn't said a word. He was not happy about this new development that Dean was a morning person. In his line of work, he didn't even schedule classes until the afternoons so he was pretty sure this was the earliest he had been up since his Army days and he was no happier about it now than he was then. Castiel grunted something that sounded ridiculously like the sound Marge Simpson makes when she is upset with Homer and Dean turned around and winked at him. What kind of sadistic bastard is awake enough to wink at someone at five o'clock in the damn morning?

"Here, hand me the keys. I'll take first shift. You don't look like you're awake yet."

"I brought coffee." Castiel finally managed to put together a cohesive sentence.

"Nice," Dean grabbed a coffee and began rooting through the bag of pastries. "Oh, Cas, you got jelly filled, I could kiss you."

Aaaand Castiel was officially awake at that comment. OK, he told himself, that is just a figure of speech, but he had had enough experience with straight men to know that once you told them you were gay, they usually acted like it was contagious disease and would never make a joke like that. Castiel decided he was going to ignore it and write it off as Dean being OK with his sexuality.

The two friends settled in, prepared for a very long ride together. Dean pulled out a Led Zeppelin cassette tape and popped it in as they headed out with Dean singing along to _Thank You_.

_If the sun refused to shine I would still be loving you_

_When mountains crumble to the sea there will still be you and me_

_Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of loves lost in the days gone by_

_My love is strong with you there is no wrong, together we shall go until we die_

Travel was easy and enjoyable. They discussed music and family and Dean tried once again to convince Cas that Dr. Sexy was gripping drama. Castiel was still not impressed. Dean shared the news with Cas that Jess and Sam were going to try for a kid and Castiel talked to Dean about an upcoming dance competition that could provide some great exposure for the studio.

At lunchtime they stopped for bar-b-q because, as Dean told Castiel, "It's a crime against the food gods to travel through Texas and not find a grill." The food was delicious and the company wasn't too shabby either. Castiel was enjoying this trip so much he could almost forget the purpose for the journey.

But something was off today that he couldn't put his finger on. First there was that wink and kiss comment at breakfast. Later, when they stopped at some Oklahoma boarder tourist trap for fuel and snacks, Dean had insisted they take a selfie picture in front of the giant cowboy and Indian carvings outside of the store. He had flung his arm around Castiel's hip, pulled the man into his side and pressed their cheeks together for the picture.

After lunch they had put the top down and Dean had stretched his free hand over the back seat of the car, gradually letting it rest on Castiel's shoulder. Then at dinner, Dean leaned across the table to wipe stray bar-b-q sauce off of Castiel's lip with his thumb then brought his thumb to his own mouth and sucked the sauce off through his smiling lips, raising his eyebrows and making a humming sound. It was cute and flirty and affectionate and Castiel's head was reeling with confusion.

Castiel lay in bed with all of these memories swirling around in his head, making him anxious and excited. All day the unexpected touches had done a number on his senses. The feeling of Dean's hand on his shoulder and their touching cheeks was intoxicating. The affection with which Dean touched him made the touches almost painful. It had been too long since he had been touched like that and to have it come from Dean, a man who he was absolutely itching to touch back, was almost unbearable. It wasn't that he didn't want Dean to touch him, he wanted it too much. And he wanted to touch Dean in return, in ways that he knew he couldn't, to kiss him, taste him, feel every part of his amazing body.

The beautiful man in the other bed had fallen asleep an hour ago while Castiel lay in his own bed trying to get the anxious feeling under his skin to go away so that he could sleep. Castiel could now hear Dean's low, calm breathing and he enjoyed the rhythmic sound of it. He was just about to drift off when Dean's breathing changed. It became shallow as he started writhing and struggling then let out a scream that made the hair on Castiel's neck stand up.

He was out of bed in a second and went to Dean, placing a hand on his chest, trying to wake him with a gentle shake. Dean was still hyperventilating. Castiel leaned down and called Dean's name in a hushed voice, giving him a gentle shake to wake him. Dean's eyes flew open as he reached up and grabbed the back of Castiel's neck. Both of them went completely still and the only sound was the heavy breathing coming from both startled men. Time stood still as their eyes locked and nothing existed but Dean and Cas.

Dean finally struggled out, "Cas?"

Castiel's voice was low and wrecked, whisky and gravel when he breathed, "I'm here, Dean."

Dean swallowed and Castiel was hypnotized by the movement of his adam's apple. He was still hovering over Dean, just inches away from his face, held in place by Dean's hand. It would be so easy to close the gap, to lean down and feel their mouths moving together. Instead, he felt Dean's hand on his cheek, cupping his jaw and gliding his thumb over his cheekbone. Castiel couldn't stop himself from leaning into that touch as his eyes fluttered closed.

The hand that was already holding the back of Castiel's neck began to move, sliding up, into his hair and then pulling him down. It was only a distance of inches, but to Castiel it felt like closing a great chasm when their lips finally came together in a gentle kiss. It wasn't rushed or frenzied, but a caress, soft and shy. And, oh, God, Castiel became lost in the warmth and softness of Dean's mouth on his. He hadn't felt like this in years. This was flying.

When Castiel's brain started working again he told himself to remember this, memorize every second. This was it, this was the moment his life would change forever - the first time he kissed Dean Winchester. He forced his body to commit every sensation to memory. Dean's lips were soft and just parted and moving in perfect synch with his. He could feel the scratch of Dean's stubble against his own. Dean's scent was filling him, making him a bit dizzy with sensation. And as he sucked at Dean's bottom lip, the man let out the tiniest moan, a sound that Castiel thought was surely more beautiful than angels singing.

When they finally broke away, Castiel leaned back to look down at the sight of Dean. His eyes were heavily lidded and dark with desire and he had never seen someone so beautiful. The next second, Dean sat up and in one deft movement, pulled Cas into his lap. Dean smiled up at Castiel, cupping his face with both hands and pulling him down for another kiss, but this time it wasn't chaste at all.

Dean pulled their mouths together and licked across the length of Castiel's upper lip, asking for entrance, which was gladly granted. Castiel opened for Dean, who explored his mouth, licking gently at teeth, teasing tongue against tongue. Meanwhile, both men were reaching, groping with their hands eager to touch every part of one another. When Dean's hands inched under Castiel's t-shirt and finally gave them the thrill of skin on soft skin, he let out a low moan that went straight to Dean's dick.

Castiel reached skillful hands around to wrap Dean and pull their bodies closer together, causing their erections to rub together through their boxers and Dean's hips bucked up involuntarily, increasing the pressure between them. Dean's hands slid around to Castiel's back, working their way up then agonizingly slowly, dragging them back down, fingernails caressing down his back with just the right amount of pressure to send a thrill of pure pleasure through Cas. When he noticed that this touch pulled a shiver out of Castiel, he brought his hands back up and in one smooth motion had Cas' shirt off, thrown forgotten onto the floor.

"God, Cas, look at you. Wanted this for so long." Dean kissed down Cas' neck, licking along his clavicle.

Dean reached his arms around Cas' waist and flipped them both so that Cas was on his back. Dean made quick work of removing his shirt and leaned down for a searing kiss and finally skin on skin, hot chests and arms and legs touching down the length of their bodies. Cas brought both hands to the sides of Dean's face and pulled their mouths apart to look up at his partner. "Dean." One word was all he said but poems, sonnets, epics have been written that said less.

Dean knew, with just that one word, what Cas was saying. And he felt it to. This was something big, profound, exceptional. This was Cas. And one word was all that was needed to be said in response, "Cas."

They met again for another kiss as Dean began to explore Cas' perfect body with his hands, then his lips and tongue. As he relished in the feeling of Cas's skin, he stopped to twirl his tongue around his nipple and give a gentle suck, relishing the reactions it drew from the man. Dean smiled at the groan and arched back, "Like that?"

"Yes, more."

Dean slid his hand under the waistband of Cas' boxers and moaned himself at the hardness that he felt there. Cas was already damp with pre-come and Dean swirled his thumb over his slit, spreading the warmth around the head of Cas' cock. In one swift movement, Dean pulled down Cas' boxers, releasing his erection to bob against his stomach. Dean couldn't take his eyes off the movement and a second later covered it with his mouth.

"Dean, oh my God!" Cas bucked up at the glorious feeling of being surrounded by Dean's hot wet mouth. Dean placed a hand on his abdomen to ground him. He chuckled at Cas' reaction, loving everything he was doing to the man. He was enjoying every moan, every writhe, every movement of Cas' hands as they gripped anything that would give him purchase.

He pulled off Cas with a soft pop and licked a line from the base of his cock up to swirl his tongue all around his swollen head before sucking him all the way back into his mouth. He gripped the base of Cas' cock and began to stroke in time with his mouth. Cas positively whimpered, a sound that sent an aching need to his own neglected erection. He felt Cas building up and, no, he wanted to slow this down, wanted this to be perfect.

He licked his way off Cas' cock, slowing the strokes of his hand and began nipping and sucking at all the places on Cas that he hoped were the most sensitive. A suck in the crease between his leg and hip, a nibble on those glorious hips, a tongue dipped into Cas' navel, all exploration and teasing and wonder. He wanted to memorize every bit of Cas' body. "Dean, please," moaned Cas and Dean looked up at the man who had his head flung back into the pillow.

Dean crawled up to whisper in his ear, "Please, what, Cas?"

"Mmmm, need you."

"I'm right here." Dean leaned in and kissed Cas, slowing the hand still working his erection to a lazy loving stroke to match the sweetness of the kiss. Cas reached up and threaded his fingers through his hair, giving it a slight pull, which drove Dean a little crazy. Then, Cas was all hands, touching and feeling his way across Dean's chest and arms and down his torso to finally pull off his boxers. And when their swollen erections rubbed together, it was magnificent.

"Cas, fuck, you feel so good. I've wanted you for so long," Dean growled into Cas' ear before sucking on his earlobe.

Cas placed his hand over Dean's and the men began stroking together, the spit and pre-come giving them a soft slide against the glorious friction and heat of their bodies together. They sped up their rhythm as Cas kissed up and down Dean's neck, sucking hard enough to mark his lover.

"Dean, oh yes, Dean, I'm close." Cas' hips were rocking against his own and Dean could feel Cas' muscles become erratic. He wrapped his free arm under Cas' shoulders and pulled him tight, wanting to be as close to him as he could.

"Yes, Castiel, come. Show me how good I make you feel."

"De-ean," Cas stuttered as he arched his back and came, spilling hot come over his stomach. Dean worked him through his orgasm stroking him empty. He loosened his arm so that he could look down at the wrecked man under him and fuck, if he didn't look fantastic like this, all blissed out, eyes half closed, sweat glistening, and shallow breaths slowly returning to normal. Cas looked up at him and smiled, sultry and hot. My God, Cas had the most incredible fucked-out look he had ever seen.

Cas leaned up to kiss Dean, hard and desperate as he began stroking him harder, speeding up his pace and pressure as Dean felt his own climax coming on.

"Cas, fuck, feels so good, yes!" Dean came as waves of pleasure crashed over him as he buried his face in Cas' neck. Dean collapsed beside Cas but continued to nuzzle kisses into the man's neck, which brought a beautiful satisfied smile to Cas' face.

"Dean, I didn't know you-"

Dean stopped him with a kiss. "Yeah, Cas, I know, but I've wanted you for so long. Until Saturday I thought you were with Pamela. Fuck! All that wasted time."

Castiel huffed a small laugh and cupped Dean's cheek for a chaste kiss. "We have all the time in the world."

After a quick clean-up, Dean was leaning over Cas, exploring and teasing his body with deft hands and lips. He wanted to know everything about Cas' body, where he was ticklish, what turned him on, what drove him crazy. When he came to Cas' right hip, his fingers ghosted over the lines of the tattoo that sat just above it, "So, tell me about this."

"It's my name… in the language of angels, Enochian. I have always loved the connection that my mother made between my name and my love of flight."

Dean leaned over to kiss along the symbol and stopped to nip at Cas' hip. "I like it. Castiel Krushnic… angel." He traced the line of Cas' hip with his tongue before sucking, humming his pleasure, drawing a red mark in the crease of Cas' hip. Cas positively mewled as his eyes fluttered closed. Dean smiled at his accomplishment before laying his hands over Cas' torso and propping his chin on them, looking up at his lover, "You must have been watching over me. You saved me from one crappy dream."

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Oh, you know, howler monkeys," Dean gave a fake shiver, "those things are terrifying."

Cas gave a low laugh, "Really, Dean?"

"Naw, just crap from the desert. I get those dreams a lot. Sorry if it woke you up. Wait, actually, not sorry." He grinned and leaned into Cas for a lingering kiss. The two men soon found sleep tangled in each other's arms. Dean's dreams that night were of blue eyes that crinkled at the corners with a smile and deft hands and the warmth of the body in his arms.


	13. Free Bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd

The next morning was awkward. Dean wanted to touch and feel and kiss Cas and explore this new aspect of their relationship, but he knew that today was the day they were planning to go to Balthazar's grave. He felt like an ass for being able to think of nothing but a thousand dirty things he wanted to do with Cas. He resigned himself, though, to be the awesome supportive friend today. If only Cas hadn't just come out of the shower in nothing but a towel. Really, it was his own fault, right?

Dean couldn't resist any longer and walked up behind Cas and sucked a trail of water from the back of his neck, snaking his arms around the man's chest. Cas shivered and turned around in his arms and kissed him long and slow, a promise of things to come. Dean broke the kiss before it got out of hand and smiled, slapping Cas on the ass as he turned away.

* * *

They found the cemetery and Balthazar's headstone and Dean hung back to give Cas a moment to himself. Castiel walked over to the marker and noticed that it was simply a name, birth and death date. His gut turned as he thought that this simple memorial was so insufficient, just a name and some dates. How can this represent what a person was, who they loved, what they laughed at, the lives they had touched? What a pitiful echo, he thought, of what was once a human life.

He took a deep breath and began his final goodbye, "Hello, Balthazar. I'm sorry for taking so long to come down here. I guess I haven't really been ready. I wanted to come for your funeral but, you know Raphael. I guess I should have told him to fuck off and shown up anyway but I didn't want to cause problems for your family. And they had just discharged me and I was pretty much a wreck.

"It's taken me a long time to be able to say goodbye to you. I think it isn't even just you, but everything that I lost when you died. I loved being an officer and the camaraderie I had with my team and flying and then suddenly it was all gone. I was so lonely. You know I haven't even flown since then?" Castiel's eyes had misted over as he remembered the anguish of losing everything so such as small period of time. He quickly wiped away a tear and glanced back at Dean waiting for him by the car.

"But things are different now. I met someone and I think you'd really be happy for me. He loves your car, he even helped me fix it. You should see it now. It's even better than before. But don't worry, we kept the original design, just like you liked. In fact Dean insisted on it. We even kept that silly replacement handle you put on the glove compartment after that time you knocked the original off trying to stand up while I drove. God, I thought you were going to get yourself killed. Dean said that sometimes it's the blemishes that make things more beautiful. I think he's right.

"I didn't think that I would find love again but I did, Balthazar, and I really do love him. This will probably be my last visit here. I need to say goodbye and let you go and I really want to do that so that I can be whole again, with Dean. Thank you for everything you did for me. You will always hold a special place in my heart. You are the best of my past. I hope Dean is my future."

Castiel turned around and saw Dean, leaning back on the car in the sun, legs crossed and his hands in his pockets. This was his future. This man who had helped him heal in every way. It was like the car. Dean had helped him heal the wounds, smooth over the scars, restore him without feeling the need to change the original design and all the while respecting that his blemishes contributed to his worth.

What Cas didn't know was that Dean had sent his own silent prayer to the man he had never met. Hey, Balthazar, just wanted to say awesome taste in cars… and men. Don't worry, I took good care of your roadster, she looks like new. And I'm gonna take care of Cas, too, 'cause I'm pretty fucking crazy about that guy so you can, I guess, rest in peace knowing that he's with someone who really cares about him now. Uh, Dean Winchester out?

Castiel walked back to Dean and was pulled into an embrace full of love, acceptance and comfort.

* * *

Castiel felt lighter already. He couldn't have imagined just a few weeks ago that he would now have closed the Balthazar and Army chapter of his life and would be driving along the shore, top rolled down, radio blasting the Rolling Stones, with the man he loved sitting next to him singing along.

Dean looked amazing. He was relaxed back into the passenger seat, one elbow casually resting on the open window with his other hand resting on Cas' thigh. He seemed so peaceful with his sunglasses on, the wind blowing through is hair and the sun shining on his face highlighting every freckle. When he looked over and smiled, Castiel wondered if there was a way he could freeze time.

They found a beach with miles of soft white sand and dragged their towels and cooler down to an open spot near the water. Castiel was like a child. He felt freer than he had in a long time as he threw off his t-shirt and ran for the waves with abandon. Dean hung back and stood on the shore, t-shirt still on, with the water lapping over his feet as he buried his toes in the soft wet sand. Castiel bounced up out of the water, breathing deeply and shaking the water out of his hair when he noticed that he was alone.

He walked over the Dean, ready to tackle him into the water but noticed that he looked pensive. "What's wrong? Don't you swim?"

"It's just, the scars. I don't know. I guess it's stupid."

Castiel understood immediately. Dean felt self-conscious about being so exposed, the skin on his shoulder wrinkled and pale against the smooth skin that covered the rest of his body. "Dean, you are beautiful, inside and out. I don't care that you are scarred. You saw past my scars. I may not wear them on my skin, but they are there nonetheless and you have helped me heal."

Dean nodded his head and the corners of his mouth quirked up into the smallest hint of a smile but he stayed silent.

"Dean, why did we leave the mismatched handle on my car's glove compartment? Why do you have army men stuck in the door handle of the Impala or Legos that rattle in the air vents? It's not just cars, Dean. It's the blemishes that make people beautiful too." Dean locked eyes with Cas and a small melancholy smile began to uptick the corners of his mouth.

Castiel huffed, "Fine," and in one movement so fast Dean didn't have time to react, he leaned down, grabbed Dean around the waist and threw him over his shoulder, turning to run back into the waves, throwing him into the water and diving in after. Both men came up laughing. "Dean, half of the women and a few of the men on this beach have been checking you out since you stepped onto the sand. Trust me, your scars do nothing to detract from how gorgeous you are." Castiel leaned in to whisper low and seductive in Dean's ear, "And I can't wait to get you back to the room and show you how much I mean that."

Dean flung his head back and laughed, tackling and dunking Castiel back under the water. Onlookers forgotten, the men wrestled and splashed in the warm waves like children. The afternoon at the beach was just what Castiel needed after an emotional morning. He and Dean swam and drank beer and ate ice cream. Dean put sunscreen on Castiel's shoulders while whispering suggestively in his ear. They joined a game of volleyball and fed popcorn to the seagulls, enjoying the perfect day until a storm rolled in, chasing everyone from the beach.

They gathered up their gear and began heading back to the car, rain soaking them through. As Castiel reached for the trunk with his keys out, he was surprised by a pair of strong hands that gripped him tightly around the waist and swung him around. Dean pushed Cas up against the car and smothered his mouth with a hot kiss. The kiss tasted like the rain that was drenching them. The sky was darkening and lightning was flashing in the distance and neither man could bring themselves to care. They were both drowning in the pleasure of that fantastic kiss.

Dean brought one hand behind Cas' head and pushed forward until Cas' lay back on the small round trunk of the car, Dean's hand acting as a rest for his head. Cas felt the heat of the car's metal, which was still warm from the summer sun against his back and the cool rain dripping off of Dean onto his chest and arms and legs and the sensation was so unique and sensual that he let it surround him and carry him away as Dean kissed him senseless.

A very close and loud clap of thunder and lightning pulled them out of their trance and they laughed as they looked at each other and at the same time said, "hotel."

Dean fumbled with the room key card as Cas did his very best to distract him, lining his body up behind Dean's, kissing the back of his neck and warming his cold, wet hands under Dean's shirt. Both men were soaked to the bone and shivering as the temperature dropped with the darkened skies. "Damn, you're freezing," Dean hissed as Cas' cold hands shocked his torso, "Come one, let's get in a hot shower."

Dean finally got the damn green light to come on, pulled down on the handle and the two stumbled through the door, hands and arms and legs and mouths tangling. Dean pulled Cas to the bathroom and started a hot shower as the two quickly stripped out of their wet clothes. The hot water was shocking at first against their cold skin and Cas gasped as he clung to Dean, who really didn't mind at all.

The two men took their time and washed themselves and each other. It was a time of comfort, relaxation, and discovery. Dean and Cas explored one another's bodies, learning the shapes and curves, memorizing muscles and marks, and finding sensitive spots. Once both men were clean, warm and relaxed, they dried off and Dean grabbed Cas' face, pulling him in for a kiss and walked him backward towards the bed until his knees hit and he fell backwards.

Dean straddled Cas and kissed down his neck, eliciting a sinful moan from the man. Dean looked up and saw the raw desire in Cas' eyes that were moving over his form, taking in every bit of him, hungry for more. God, the way Cas looked at him should be at the top of the deadly sins list. Cas' blue eyes were a dark indigo in the dim lighting of the room, occasionally lit by flashes of lightning from the storm raging outside of their window.

"Damn, Cas. You are so fuckin' sexy." Dean leaned down to take Cas' mouth with his own. He licked over the man's lower lip and Cas sighed and opened for him, inviting Dean's tongue to touch and taste. Cas' hands threaded through Dean's hair and gave a small pull and Dean thought to himself that, yeah, that is obviously something Cas likes, which is pretty freaking awesome. So he reciprocated by carding his own fingers up and running fingernails gently across Cas' scalp then giving a hint of a tug that had Cas moaning his name.

"You like that, Cas? Tell me what you want me to do to you." For emphasis, he rolled his hips, loving the increase in friction where their bare erections were already rubbing.

"Dean, I want you inside of me," Cas rumbled in that low gravel of a voice and Dean closed his eyes and groaned at the reaction that voice brought out in his body.

"Anything you want, angel," Dean whispered right into Cas' ear and smiled when he could see that his voice elicited its own reaction when Cas whimpered and thrust his hips forward.

Dean sat up, thanking God that he remembered to stop at the convenient store that morning and grabbed the lube he had tossed in the nightstand. First, he applied a generous amount to his hand and grabbed both of their cocks and began stroking, spreading the lube in long steady strokes. He was so hard from just this he felt like he could come right there. Cas was under him arching his back, gripping fingers into his thighs, and downright growling his name, slow and sultry. And damn, Dean thought, Cas might just be the sexiest thing he had ever seen all coming apart under him.

But there was more, so much more, that he wanted to do with Cas and he forced himself to slow down and relish every moment of this. With Cas' head thrown back in passion, Dean couldn't resist leaning forward and taking that long neck into his mouth, licking a path from the base of his neck, all the way up under his chin to finally capture that mouth, those soft pink swollen lips, and the searing wet heat of Cas' tongue.

Dean repositioned so that he was between Cas legs and watched in fucking awe as Cas so willingly spread his legs for him, splaying himself out so vulnerable and Dean didn't think he would ever get enough of making love to this man. He applied more lube to his fingers and slid them slowly down to swirl around Cas' tight opening, teasing and testing. When Cas cried out, "Dean, please!" he slid one finger in just to the first knuckle, giving it a teasing wiggle that had Cas writhing and begging for, "more, Dean, please."

And Dean could do more. So he took Cas' cock into his mouth at the same time that he pressed his finger in further. Cas, sucked in a sharp breath and immediately had his hands carding through Dean's hair again as he whimpered in ecstasy.

Dean worked his finger back and forth gently massaging Cas' muscles loose and he could feel Cas relaxing into the comforting movement. His head was bobbing in time with his fingers as he added a second and curled the tips to find that perfect spot that made Cas gasp as the pleasure overtook him. And Cas was perfect as he pulled his knees to spread himself out wider, inviting Dean in.

Dean pulled off Cas to sit up and take in the sight of Cas and the men locked eyes as lightning continued to flash across the sky seemingly in time with the electric buzz that could be felt between the men in the hotel room. And Dean was ready, he had worked Cas open with three fingers and had a perfect view of his fingers working his lover and the sight made his cock positively hum.

He pulled his fingers out and with a slow and steady glide, slid into Cas. "Oh my fucking God, Cas!"

For a moment his vision went white and he couldn't even think of anything but the tight pressure surrounding him. He closed his eyes and hitched a breath until he felt two steady hands on his face and Cas' voice from somewhere miles away pulling him back, "Dean, look at me."

And when Dean opened his eyes there was Cas, holding his gaze and his body tightly, safely, grounded. Cas pulled Dean down so that their foreheads were touching and they were a breath away and whispered, "I know, Dean." And when Cas slowly began to rock his hips upward forcing Dean in further, Dean got the message and was able to move in time with Cas.

He pulled back all the way until just his head was still sheathed and then slid forward, slowly, inch by inch in a slow drag that was pulling the most amazing sounds from Cas. He smiled, knowing that he had just found another of Cas' favorite things. He repeated this movement again and again until Cas couldn't take it any longer, "Dean, harder, oh God!"

Dean did as Cas wished as sped up, thrusting harder and faster pounding against Cas' prostrate and watching the man under him come completely apart. "Cas, I want to see you when you come. Look at me." Cas' eyes snapped opened and focused on Dean's and Dean could tell it was taking every bit of his effort to keep this focus and not lose himself in the feeling. The men were rocking their hips together in a perfect rhythm and Dean reached down to stroke Cas, causing his lover's movements to become erratic as Dean watched the tight muscles of Cas' abdomen constrict and then spasm when Cas came in wave after wave of white heat.

The look on Cas' face as he was overcome with ecstasy was glorious. Cas locked his eyes on Dean as he came with Dean's name on his lips. And Dean had done this, with his hands and his mouth and his cock, he had taken apart all of Cas' control and made Cas come apart with pleasure. He felt overwhelmed by his want and affection for this man. My God, what was Cas doing to him?

Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean's back, locking his feet together and pulled Dean in tighter. Dean was lost. Between the rush of watching Cas come and the feeling of Cas holding him tighter, he could feel the pressure start to build and coil before exclaiming, "Oh God, Cas, fucking Christ!" as he released his seed into Cas' perfect ass.

* * *

The storm raged on outside for several hours but when evening came, the skies finally cleared and the setting sun shone, bathing the sky in a red glow. The storm left the swollen sea water thrashing with massive waves and the temperature drop brought gusty winds. Dean and Cas decided to take in the sight of the storm's aftermath and drove back down to the beach. It was like a different place.

That morning the beach had been sunny, hot and playful. Now it was raw nature, all power and energy. Cas stood on the edge of the raging water, the roar of the white capped waves bathing over him and the wind sending a chill through him that had him pulling his hoodie a little closer to his body. Dean saw this and moved behind him, resting his head on Cas' shoulder and wrapping his arms around his middle, sharing their warmth.

The storm had cleared out the beach earlier and they were nearly alone now as they stood against the sea. "It's beautiful like this, you can feel the sheer magnitude of the sea's power."

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome," Dean replied into Cas' ear before sucking his earlobe and placing kisses down his neck. "I'm really glad I came down here with you."

"Thank you, Dean, for coming here with me. I never imagined how it would turn out."

"Well, I imagined a lot," Dean chuckled and gave a playful nip of Cas' ear, making the man smile. "But that didn't come close to how great it's been."

Cas gave a low rumbling huff of a laugh that felt like velvet to Dean. "I guess I imagined a few things myself," Cas leaned his head back and to the side to meet Dean for a suggestive kiss, "You know, I was attracted to you from the first time you came in for lessons. But it wasn't just how you looked. That first night, when you took me to the Roadhouse, you saved me. I had been going through the motions of life, just doing what I was supposed to but not really living. Then I met you and you forced me to reevaluate how I had been living and to change that and to seize the moment and to let go of the past. I never would have done any of this if it weren't for you."

"You've helped me too, Cas. You know dealing with that PTSD crap has really sucked. That nightmare I had last night? I used to have those all the time. But since I met you," he kissed a trail up to Cas ear and rested his lips right on Cas's flesh, causing him to shiver as he whispered low and seductive, "my dreams have become much more fun."

Cas turned around and brought his arms around Dean's neck as Dean's snaked around his waist and the men kissed, slow and long until Cas breathed, "Show me." And Dean took Cas back to the hotel where he did just that.


	14. All Of My Love - Led Zeppelin

"Cas, wake up." Dean was already showered, dressed and had started the coffee. He was leaning over a still sleeping Cas, who was lying face down his head buried in the soft pillow. He placed a kiss at the nape of Cas' neck then traveled down his spine pecking little kisses as he went. "Come on, we are going to the beach."

"We were already at the beach, now let me sleep," Cas grumbled into the pillow.

"No, the sun's coming up. It'll be awesome." Dean reached below the blankets and gave his lover's ass a gentle squeeze. "I'll make it worth your while."

Cas, squinted one eye open at Dean, "I am going to hold you to that," he groused.

"It's a promise. Now get your lazy ass up. Coffee's ready."

Cas groaned and rolled out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom for a quick clean up. He put his hands on his hips and stretched out his back, feeling the warm burn through his lower back and legs that was a delicious reminder of the night before. He brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face before pulling on a pair of jeans and a soft hoodie, knowing it may be cool and breezy at the pre-dawn shore and shuffled over to Dean, who was standing there with a cup of coffee and a smile, looking ridiculously handsome for this time of the morning.

"God, you're a grumpy little shit in the morning."

"I don't think this qualifies as morning, Dean. I refuse to call it morning until the sun is up."

"Then let's go catch that sunrise."

"I saw all the sunrises I ever wanted to see during stand-to duty in the desert."

"Doesn't count when you're holed up in a foxhole with an M-16 in your hand. I promise, sunrise over the Gulf will be much better." Dean leaned in for a friendly kiss and led Cas out the door of the hotel room.

The morning air was still cool and crisp and the breeze was strong on the shore. Dean grabbed an old army blanket out of the trunk and Cas carried both cups of coffee, grateful for the warmth they radiated into his fingers. They found a spot near the beach entrance where there was an empty picnic table that they made their own, perching on the top, their feet resting on the bench.

Dean threw the blanket around their shoulders, and Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder and closed his eyes in contentment. He could hear the sounds of the morning tide pushing gentle waves over the sand, playing a natural lullaby as the seagulls added their melody. The breeze blowing through their hair was warming up but still crisp, a comfortable contrast to the body heat being shared under the blanket. The smells of sea air and coffee and Dean were swirling around in his senses, creating a perfect blend of serenity.

The sea stretched out in front of them, dividing the horizon into earth and sky, a few morning stars still fighting against the inevitable extinguishing light of the sun, fading white dots against the deep blue. Dean wrapped his arm around Cas, resting it on his hip, as the men watched the sky begin to change colors. The deep sapphire that reminded Dean perfectly of Cas' eyes was fading, being taken over by an indigo that reached its long tentacles out to paint layers of lavender and wine across the horizon.

Cas raised his head and reached over to take Dean's hand into his own when the sun peeked its first rays over the rippling water. Dean looked over at Cas and saw that his eyes had misted over and the look on his face was sadness. This wasn't how he expected this morning to go, but Cas had his chin turned up to the sky and was absorbed in the sunrise so he said nothing, just threaded his fingers into Cas'. The sun continued its light show in the sky, creating glowing halos behind all of the low clouds as the reds of the heavens heated to fiery oranges, warming the air and bathing the shoreline in a sepia glow.

Dean was awed by how striking Cas looked in this morning light. The breeze had tousled his hair so that it was in complete disarray and the amber light gave his face a warm glow.

"It's like flying," Cas breathed, barely a whisper, "with the sun over the horizon and nothing obscuring it, no buildings or trees, just endless sky. Sometimes I feel so heavy always being on the ground, like I am anchored."

"Cas, you're still a pilot. You don't have to be in the Army to fly."

"I know. I think I was… defeated after what happened. You can't imagine how I was treated. I was an officer. I was at the top of my class. I was a decorated soldier and I took so much pride in that. They took that all away. Men who had been my peers, some even friends, they looked at me with disgust. They took everything about me, all that I had done and accomplished and everything that I was as person and reduced it, all of it, down to one word - gay. I tried to tell them that it didn't matter, that I was still a valuable asset to the Army. They had spent tens of thousands of dollars educating and training me, had entrusted me with multimillion dollar aircraft, just to throw it away because of that one word. I was grilled and accused and judged. It felt like being stripped naked and exposed.

"It was the first time in my life that someone else decided my worth, and they decided I wasn't worth anything. They broke me down the point that I believed them. I didn't think I deserved my wings. I even felt responsible for Balthazar's death. Like, if I had kept my secret and not dated him he would be alive."

Castiel paused, closed his eyes and let the rising sun warm his face. Dean thought he should take a picture of Cas like this, his chin rising defiantly against the injustices that the world had done to him. He soaked in the line of his jaw, covered in morning stubble and the sight of his dark lashes resting against his cheeks. The lines around his eyes were relaxing as he took a deep breath and his lips ticked up into the tiniest hint of a smile. Dean couldn't keep his hand from coming up and caressing Cas' cheek and turning his face to Dean's so that he could place kisses on each closed eyelid.

Castiel hummed in pleasure at the loving touch and fluttered his eyes open. "I think, though, that meeting you and coming down here, saying goodbye, I can let go of all of that now. It's been a long a difficult road, but it led me to you." Dean could see that there was a change. Cas' eyes looked a little brighter, lighter, unburdened. He leaned in to rest their foreheads together, continuing to caress Cas' cheek with his thumb. "Thank you, Dean." And Dean could feel Cas' body release its tension as it melted against his own. "You were right, waking early for the sunrise was worth my while."

"You want to go back to bed, now, Cas?"

"Are you propositioning me, Mr. Winchester?"

"Most definitely." Dean smirked, tightening the arm around Cas' waist and leaning into him for a kiss.

"I would love for you to take me to bed, but how about pancakes first?" And with that Dean was pretty sure he was completely in love.

* * *

After breakfast they headed back to the hotel so Cas could get cleaned up and they could start their last day at the beach. But when Cas came out of the shower he found Dean fast asleep still fully clothed, face down on the bed. That bastard, thought Cas, he's not getting me up at an ungodly hour just to go right back to sleep. So Cas skipped getting dressed and headed over to the bed, hair still dripping and towel tied around his waist.

He knelt on the bed, leaning over Dean and began nibbling at the back of his neck. Cool droplets of water dripped onto Dean, startling him awake, causing a massive shiver. Castiel laughed against him, a deep laugh that vibrated through Dean's back. "Sorry, Cas, fell asleep. I'm getting up."

"No, don't. Stay right there," Castiel breathed and Dean could hear that his voice was low and seductive already.

Cas' hands reached under Deans shirt and smoothed up his sides, providing soothing strokes of pressure over Dean's ribs, up and down, massaging the muscles through his back, making the man go loose and pliant under his hands. Cas continued to work around Dean's neck with his mouth, licking around the rim of his ear and nibbling then suckling his earlobe. Little droplets of water were occasionally falling from Cas' hair onto Dean's neck driving him crazy with the unexpected pop of cool against the heat of Cas' breath and tongue.

"Take this off," Cas commanded and Dean obliged by pulling his shirt over his head and rested back onto his stomach. Cas climbed on top of him and straddled his ass and Dean could feel Cas' erection against his crack through his jeans. It was thrilling and exciting and hot and a little scary all at the same time. He had never gone there with a man before and was feeling nervous energy pulse through him.

Cas leaned down pressing his cool still wet chest against Dean's bare back and rolled his hips, and fuck if that wasn't seriously hot. Cas moved his hands around and lifted Dean's abdomen off the bed just enough to get to the button and fly of his jeans. Dean's mind lost all sense of reason with that move, the feeling of being handled, moved and controlled by Cas' strong muscles was so intense. Being with women was different. They were soft and he was strong. This was different, he could let go and just enjoy Cas' strength and control and he was loving every second of it.

Cas moved off of Dean to slide his jeans and boxers down and pull off his shoes and socks, leaving his lover naked on the bed in front of him. Cas sat back and took a moment to enjoy the sight of Dean like this. He slid his hands along Dean's muscular legs, dragging his fingers up the back of his thighs in an agonizingly slow motion that made Dean catch his breath when they reached his cheeks and breezed close to his hole. He involuntarily rutted his hips forward, pressing his own growing erection into the bed beneath him, seeking relief.

Cas took notice and grinned, "You like that?" He purred behind Dean.

"Fuck yeah, Cas!"

Cas laughed and leaned forward to whisper, "Patience, my love. Can I fuck you, Dean?" into Dean's ear. Dean paused, a little scared of this. But he was pretty sure he was unable to deny Cas anything in the world that he would have asked for at that moment.

"Cas, I haven't…"

"It's OK." Cas said and started to move so that they could reposition, but Dean reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"No, Cas, I want you to. It's just…"

"Dean," Cas' voice came out as barely a breath and Dean was pretty sure that he had never heard anyone say something with as much reverence as Cas did his name. "I understand. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, Cas."

"I want you to enjoy it, I will never hurt you."

"I know Cas," and he did, he could feel it. He trusted Cas like he trusted no one outside of family. And he did want this, to be as close to Cas as possible. And he felt a thrill of excitement that, oh God, he was really going to do this.

Cas was now straddling Dean again, his towel long forgotten so that their naked bodies could touch in every way possible. Cas was crawling backward, planting kisses all the way down Dean's spine as he wrapped his arm around and lifted again and gave Dean's erection several long strokes. And, God it felt so good that Dean turned his head and buried it in the sheets, moaning for Cas not to stop.

Cas continued to move his hot wet lips down until he reached the top of Dean's crack, where he reached out his tongue and dipped into the tender flesh experimentally. Dean couldn't believe the sensation that that small act caused. Holy shit, it went straight through him and how the hell could he have not known before what an amazingly tender spot that was?

"Good, Dean?"

"Hell yeah, oh God that's fucking good!"

"I love to make you hot," Cas moaned as his tongue dipped again, just a little lower. Cas' hands were caressing down the outsides of Dean's thighs and they wrapped around to the backs, digging the heels of his hands into the tender muscle behind Dean's knees and massaging up the back of his thighs. As he was doing this, Cas kept crawling lower and lower until he could place his lips on the back of Dean's knee, drawing a satisfied hum out of the man. Cas' hands were at the top of Dean's thighs now as they worked their way into his inner thighs and fuck if Dean didn't find himself whimpering as they caressed and spread his legs apart with just a hint of fingernails while Cas' mouth moved up Dean's inner thigh kissing and nipping and sucking a path of pleasure.

Dean was writhing with the heat of this and by the time Cas' hot tongue reached out and licked his perineum, he was moaning Cas' name begging him for more. Cas happily obliged as he separated Dean's cheeks with is fingers and licked circles around Dean's hole, which made Dean so hot with pleasure that he felt dizzy with it. Cas reached between Dean's legs and under him and with one strong arm lifted him onto his knees then caressed his balls. The new angle gave Cas even better access and he finally delved his tongue into Dean's hole, causing him to scream, "Oh my fucking God, Cas!"

Cas caressed and thrust and tasted and teased Dean until his mind had lost all thought outside of the immense pleasure that his lover was giving him. Cas pulled away and leaned back to take in the sight of Dean, laid out vulnerable in front of him, ass presented. And it was beautiful. This man, whom he loved also trusted him and wanted to give him everything of himself.

Cas ran one hand all the way up Dean's spine and back down and in one smooth motion easily breached his already spit slicked hole with one finger. The shock of the unexpected intrusion was just about the most amazing thing he had ever felt and his body coiled up ready for release. "Cas, I'm gonna," but Cas already knew and had reached around him with a wetted hand to stroke him through his orgasm. Cas felt the glorious clenching of muscles around his finger and the hot wetness of Dean's come over his hand and nearly lost control himself. But this was Dean's first time with this so Cas wanted to make it perfect. He steeled himself, holding his breath until the wave of sensation was under control.

Dean fell forward off of his knees, flat on the bed and Cas gave him just a moment to bask in his ecstasy before continuing to work him open for more. He reached for the bottle of lube and applied a generous amount to his fingers before reinserting just the one and Dean hadn't realized until that moment how much he had missed that sensation when Cas had slid out of him before.

"Dean, tell me this is OK."

"Fuck yeah it's OK, Cas. Fucking great."

And Cas added a second finger, slowly, so slowly, caressing them in and out, in and out together, building up a pressure inside of Dean he didn't know existed before. Cas took his time and explored Dean's inner wall, testing each small movement, wanting this to be perfect for his lover. He began to scissor his fingers, working Dean open, swirling his fingers around in a motion that was soft and comforting as he whispering soothing words in Dean's ear. When he grazed over his prostate teasingly, Dean's vision went and all he could see what white. "Cas, Cas, yes, just like that. More!"

So Cas gave him more, sliding a third finger in, speeding up the pace, grazing that magical sensitive spot with every thrust, making Dean writhe with pleasure as he moaned incoherent phrases of want. "Dean, you're so perfect like this. I love giving you pleasure."

"Yes, want you, want more. Cas. Want you to feel it too. Fuck me, Cas!"

When Cas slid his fingers out, Dean groaned at the loss of fullness but a moment later, Cas' weight was over him, heat along his whole back, slick sweat on hot skin. The head of Cas' erection was at Dean's entrance, "Dean," it was a question, a request, to connect to his lover in this most intimate of ways.

His answer came when Dean reached around and grabbed Cas' hip and pulled him forward, forcing the head of his cock to slide into Dean in one hot motion. The sharp pain was overwhelming, more than he expected and Dean stiffened. Cas went completely still and whispered, "Dean?"

Dean had closed his eyes and clenched his muscles. "It's OK, Cas," Dean huffed out between shallow breaths, "slowly, OK?" And turned his head to where Cas was now just over his shoulder and pressed his lips to his lovers, reassuring him that this was good.

Cas began to move, agonizingly slow at first. "Dean, relax. Relax all of your muscles and it will feel so good." Cas' voice was soothing and grounding and he continued to whisper words of encouragement and Dean did as Cas said. He focused on relaxing the muscles that had clenched around Cas and Cas was right. The sensation began to change from burn to pleasure.

Dean was so hot and tight around him that Cas felt he might explode from the pressure of it. But he forced himself to move in slow, shallow thrusts, wanting this to be as pleasurable for Dean as it was for him. He rocked slow and soft until suddenly he hit Dean's prostate and Dean bucked back into him, forcing his cock all the way in so that he was fully buried in his lover. Both men let out a simultaneous cry of ecstasy.

The pain had subsided and now all Dean could feel was a perfect fullness and wave of bliss with every movement as Cas rocked harder, pounding against his prostate with dizzying fervor. Cas was rolling his hips with a sinful rhythm and sighing "Dean, Dean, oh Dean," over and over again like a pilgrim laying his prayers at a temple. Dean was overwhelmed with the love he felt for this man who was bringing him over the edge of rapture. And he connected to his lover by reaching back to caress his cheek and whisper, "Yes, it's perfect, Cas" as he intertwined the fingers of his free hand with Cas' and the two men came together holding each other tightly while their bodies contracted through each wave of ecstasy.

* * *

Saturday came too soon and the men packed the car to head back to their normal lives. Both were still feeling the glow of the glorious time they had spent together and even the long drive through three states seemed to fly by. Both agreed that they didn't want their time to end so Dean would spend the night at Castiel's apartment. Spent and sore from too many hours in a car, the men dragged themselves up Cas' staircase and fell into bed, too tired to do anything more than sleep. Cas curled up in front of Dean and pulled the man's arm around him tight as he nuzzled into his pillow, which was kind of adorable. And Dean was afraid he could get really used to this as he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

Castiel awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee and something else delicious and music was drifting in from the living room. He rubbed his eyes, taking a moment to get his bearings and stretch, cat like, enjoying the much needed pull of his tight muscles. It had been days since he stretched and danced and his body was itching for the familiar motion. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and padded, barefoot, out to the kitchen where Dean was cooking up French toast. So that's what smelled so heavenly, he thought.

Dean's back was facing him and he moved quietly to take in the sight of Dean swaying and singing along with Led Zeppelin to _Fool In the Rain_.

_There's a light in your eye that keeps shining_

_Like a star that can't wait for the night_

_I hate to think I've been blinded baby_

_Why can't I see you tonight_

_And the warmth of your smile starts burning_

_And the thrill of your touch gives me fright_

_And I'm shaking so much, really yearning_

_Why don't you show up and make it alright?_

Cas leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms, "I would have taken you for more of a II or ZOSO kind of guy."

Dean turned around and smiled, "Hell yeah, ZOSO for sure. Every song on there is a freaking masterpiece. But Houses of the Holy? Probably the best album ever. This was all I could find, though."

"Hmm, the rest must be downstairs. I keep a lot of my music in the studio."

Dean smiled at the thought of Cas rocking out to Zeppelin in the ballroom downstairs. Dean poured a mug of coffee and walked over to Cas, handing him the cup, which Cas immediately put down on the counter and opted for slinking his hands around Dean to pull him in for a kiss. Before long the kiss was deepening as Dean's hands found their way under Cas' t-shirt and he pressed forward, rolling his hips sinfully into Cas. Castiel couldn't decide if this was a dream or not. Waking up to Dean's voice singing, cooking in his kitchen, kissing him stupid against the counter all seemed just a bit to amazing to be true. His answer came a second later when the shrill shriek of the smoke alarm reminded them that there was still food cooking.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean broke away and ran to the stove to rescue his food while Castiel opened a window and fanned the smoke alarm. Dean was too late, burned French toast was smoking against the blackened butter in the pan, which he grabbed and tossed into the sink. "Fuck," he yelled as grease spit out and burned his hand while Cas batted the alarm right off the ceiling with a broom handle and it went crashing to the floor, sliding across the room.

Once the horrible noise stopped assaulting their senses the two men, hearts beating fast with adrenaline, looked at each other and after a brief moment both erupted into fits of laughter. When they were breathless and dizzy from the hilarity, Cas walked over to Dean and lifted his hand to examine it. "You're burned." There was a small but angry red line on the palm by Dean's thumb that was swelling to a blister.

"It's nothing. Stuff like this happens all the time at the shop. But, shit, I ruined breakfast."

Cas just smiled and wrapped his other arm around Dean's neck and rested his head on the man's shoulder, still holding his burned hand. The song had changed and Robert Plant was now singing _All of My Love_.

"Mmmm, I love this song," Castiel whispered in his lover's ear, "dance with me, Dean?"

Castiel began to sway to the music and Dean caught on pretty quick and brought his free arm around Cas and held him close as they danced together.

_Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light, to chase a feather in the wind_

_Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight, there moves a thread that has no end_

Dean was surprised to find he was recognizing the rumba dance steps that Cas had taught him. This was the dance of seduction and damn if Cas' hips weren't seducing the hell out of him. What started out as a soft swaying, Cas was now leading into something more. The arm around Dean's neck snaked into his hair as Cas leaned his cheek into Dean's and breathed kisses along his jaw. His hips were pushing against Dean's in that sexy Latin motion that was positively wicked and he was pulling that motion all the way up through their shoulders, which rocked side to side with the music.

_All of my love, all of my love, all of my love, to you_

Dean was catching on and swinging his hips together with Cas when Cas slid one leg up the outside of Dean's in a slow sexy movement that prompted Dean to reach down and grab Cas' thigh and pull it into him, causing their crotches to rub together, teasing their growing erections. Dean groaned at how hot this was and when Cas leaned his head back Dean moved forward and licked along the line of his lover's adam's apple, but no, that wasn't enough. He pressed in low on the side of Cas' neck, sucking a red mark, something primal and possessive taking pleasure in marking Cas as his own. He sang the words of the song into Cas' ear as softly and seductively as he could.

_Yours is the cloth, mine is the hand that sews time, He is the force the lies within_

_Ours is the fire, all the warmth we can find, He is a feather in the wind_

_All of my love, all of my love, all of my love, to you_

Cas continued to increase the pressure and friction between them and Dean could hear his lover's breathing becoming more shallow and desperate, he reached his other arm down around Cas' ass, onto his thigh and pulled upwards. Cas took the cue and wrapped both legs around Dean's waist as Dean held him with strong arms and walked them until Cas was pressed against the wall and let out a soft "oof" at the unexpected pressure.

Cas leaned down and claimed Dean's mouth with a kiss that was all passion and heat. And Dean rocked into Cas against the wall, creating the perfect pressure and friction that had both men moaning with pleasure. Dean secured Cas' legs in his arms and carried him to the couch where he laid his lover gently and covered his body with his own.

Dean looked down at Cas and blue eyes met with green. Cas breathed out, "I love you, Dean." Dean felt the warmth of that love and the raw honesty of those words flood over him and surround him like a cocoon.

He wanted to say it back, he really did. He could sing 'all of my love to you' seductively into Cas' ear so why couldn't he bring himself to say the L word now? Dean took a breath and choked out what he could, "Cas, I need you." And the men spent the rest of the morning showing each other the depth of their declarations.


	15. War, What is it Good For - Edwin Star

The battlefield was a bloody mess. Everywhere Dean looked, there were fallen bodies, writhing and moaning, some still gripping useless weapons in their dying hands. He had lost good soldiers in this battle. He looked down and below his feet laid his fallen captain, clutching his injured side, a death wound. The man grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him down so that he could whisper his last orders.

"Hold this position," he groaned. "You have to protect the camp."

"Don't die on me, captain. Hold on, man, help will be here soon." But it was too late. And with the last of his strength, the captain shoved his weapon into Dean's hand as his final act of patriotism.

Dean searched frantically around for the rest of his team but couldn't find anyone still alive. It would be up to him. He ducked behind a crumbling makeshift berm to inventory his ammunition. Damn, he was running low. He would have to collect some from the dead bodies strewn across the battleground. He dropped around the berm and low-crawled to the nearest body, trying to remember all of his combat training.

He dug through the fallen soldier's abandoned ammo bag and found little he could work with. Just then he heard the sounds of approaching soldiers across the battlefield. A glance up told him that they were the enemy. He slowly lowered his head to the ground, staying as low and inconspicuous as possible. He readied his weapon and coiled his muscles like a snake ready to strike, preparing to attack should they come closer.

Then he heard it, the voice of an angel from behind him. "Dean, are you just going to lay there or help me win this battle?" It was Cas and he was standing with his back to a tree, using it for cover. Dean grinned at him. He looked so sexy in his brown leather pants and boots, belted light blue tunic, leather wrist guards and chain mail. Not to mention the duct tape covered foam sword he was yielding like it was Excalibur!

"I'm collecting ammo. Check it out," he held up the two little bean bags with symbols written on them in sharpie pen. "I found a lightning bolt and some magic spell thingy in this fairy's bag!"

"That's not very politically correct of you," Cas smirked back at Dean.

"Very funny, angel. Look, wings and pointy ears?" Dean said as he held up the corner of one of the tulle wings strapped to the LARPers back. Cas' head flung back as he let out a full body laugh. The fairy who was supposed to be playing dead giggled too.

"C'mon, we can rendezvous with Sam's team. I think they are planning a raid." Dean got up and sprinted to Cas, grabbing his elbow and taking off full speed towards the base camp where Sam and team were guarding Queen Charlie. Dean was apprehensive at first when Charlie invited them all to the Moondoor LARPing Battle, but he was officially having the time of his life.

Dean couldn't help stopping on the way back to pull Cas into an empty tent, though, for a quick make out session. Dean pulled Cas to him and crushed their mouths together, groping Cas' ass with his hands. "God, you look so hot like this. I've wanted to do that all day." Dean pulled Cas' hips to his, bucking against his lover, pulling a groan of pleasure from both men.

"Dean, I don't think we have time for ahhhh." Dean's hand groped his erection through the tight leather and Cas lost all thought of time. Dean unbuckled Cas' belt so that he could reach under his tunic to caress around his torso, feeling the curves of those perfectly chiseled abs. Damn, he loved Cas' dancer's body. Cas had his eyes closed and he instinctively reached up to thread his fingers through Dean's hair but ran into a long blonde wig instead and he groaned in frustration.

Dean laughed, a low rumble, "What's wrong, Cas? Don't like my Braveheart look?" Cas shut his lover up with a searing kiss and just moved his hands lower, unbuckling his belt to loosen Dean's pants.

"I have never seen you look anything but exquisite, Dean." With one swift movement, Cas fell to his knees and lowered Dean's pants down to free his already rock hard erection. He licked at the head and pulled Dean into his wet mouth, eliciting a curse from the man above him. He closed his eyes and found a perfect rhythm, rocking back and forth, enjoying the sinful sounds that every movement was pulling from Dean. But Castiel wanted to watch Dean come undone.

He looked up and Dean was caught by the sight of Cas' big blue eyes looking up at him with so much love. He was rapt by the sight of his cock sliding through those perfect wet pink lips and the feeling of Cas' hot tongue swirling and licking and driving him wild. Cas worked his own pants open to free himself, and used his hand to provide some relief from the building pressure.

Cas increased his rhythm, working Dean furiously and hollowing out his cheeks to provide glorious suction. "Fuuuckk, Cas. So fucking good at that."

The sight of Dean watching him encouraged Cas even more and made him want to put on a performance Dean wouldn't soon forget. He hummed onto Dean's cock and caressed his balls with his free hand. Dean gasped and reached for Cas' head, pulling his silky hair gently. A little nod was all Dean needed. Cas was giving him permission to thrust harder, slamming into the back of Cas' throat. Several magnificent thrusts was all it took and Dean was spilling his heat down Cas' throat and Cas swallowed and lapped every drop.

It was so hot and it was all Cas needed before a moment later he was coming as well, dripping thick white liquid over his own hand. Dean dropped down to his knees across from Cas, and cupped the man's face with both hands, pulling their mouths together for a slow, lingering kiss. When they were both breathless, Dean broke away and rested their foreheads together, locking eyes and smiling at this beautiful creature in front of him.

"God, Cas, I..." (love you, adore you, am fucking crazy about you) "think we'd better get back. You know there's no way they're winning the battle without Lancelot and Galahad."

"Dean, Galahad was Lancelot's son. That would make what we just did here rather awkward."

"Geez, between you and Sammy, I don't know who is the bigger nerd."

After a hasty clean-up, they snuck out of the tent to find the rest of their team. They found Pamela, who was leaning against a tree, a beer in one hand, with an orc soldier leaning over her. When she noticed Dean and Castiel she told them, "I'm already dead, blinded by some dark magic spell then stabbed. But I'm totally cool with it because… Benny?" she looked at the orc for confirmation of his name and he nodded, "right, Benny here's keeping me company. I am pretty sure everyone's still alive back at base camp, though." As they took off toward camp, Pamela called out, "Bye, bye, boys. Have fun storming the castle!"

They finally found Sam, Jess, Charlie, and Jo strategizing. They had lost most of their magic in the elf battle, but a few living elves and fairies were finding their way back to camp. Dean and Cas were two of the few remaining Warriors of Yesteryear. Sam, Jess and Jo had all been assigned to Charlie's Followers of the Moon, who still had strong numbers. They decided to combine forces and attack the Shadow Orcs in open combat on the main battlefield.

They sent their swiftest messenger to put forth the challenge. Really, he was the swiftest because he was 12 years old and was willing to run to the Orc's forest where none of the adults were willing to move that fast. Brian (aka Endor the Brave) returned breathless with a scroll in hand, running up to Charlie, who promised should he survive this battle, he would be knighted for his bravery.

Charlie rolled out the scroll and read aloud to her subjects, "We, of the Realm of the Shadow Orc, accept thy challenge. We shall meet thee on the western battlefield at half past the two o'clock hour behind ye olde basketball courts." Dean snickered. Sam elbowed him in the ribs.

The time of the battle had arrived. Warriors stood, battle-ready, on either side of the empty field, weapons at the ready, adrenaline pumping through their veins. This was it, the battle for the kingdom, for their queen. The recently deceased had stopped their tailgating to assemble at the edges of the battlefield, grills and coolers left forgotten, to watch the final battle.

Cas approached Dean, "Charlie wants you to say something to the troops and give the attack order."

Dean smiled at this, he hadn't spent a lifetime memorizing epic movie quotes for nothing! He was born for this! He leaned into Cas and quipped, "As you wish, Buttercup."

Cas squinted at him with that quizzical look he got when he was trying to understand one of Dean's references. "Why would you call me Buttercup?"

"It's… Oh, never mind!" Dean turned around to face the soldiers. His brother stood above everyone else, the giant. Flanking him on either side were Jess and Charlie, swords and shields ready. Jo had her face painted red and white and was wielding a giant foam hammer, which made Dean strangely proud. She was standing next to Cas, who had stepped back into the front line. He was smiling at Dean, sword in hand, ready to attack on his order.

Dean ran through them in his mind, Braveheart, Lord of the Rings, 300, The Patriot, hell even "make them an offer they can't refuse" crossed his mind. In the end, he decided on the most simple and elegant and bad-ass war cry he could think of. With Gladiator in mind, he looked to his team, lowered the register of his voice and growled out in his best Russell Crowe accent, "On my signal, unleash hell!" Then he turned, raised his sword and attacked.

The battle was intense and epic and so much freaking fun. Dean ran forward, fighting and slashing, killing orc after orc. He chanced a look around to see how his team was faring. He smiled when he noticed that Sam and Jess were fighting back to back, protecting each other. Sam towered a foot over his fiancé and guarded her fiercely, but Jess was no wilting flower herself, holding off an orc of her own.

Jo had taken a blow to the arm, which she was now holding behind her back, trying to stay within the rules and swinging with only her left. It was too much though, and an orc snuck up from behind and stabbed her in the back, ending her game. Charlie was holding her own having had way more practice at this than the rest of them, plus she had an adoring bunch of subjects surrounding and defending her.

Dean continued his triumphant battle, picking up a fallen soldier's sword so that he could yield one in each hand. He looked around and finally spotted Cas. He was fucking amazing. He was holding his sword high in front of him with two hands, legs spread apart like a freaking samurai warrior. He could imagine Cas in one of those epic sword fighting scenes from his favorite kung-fu movies. He swung and dove and yielded his sword deftly, spinning around to take out an orc in front of him and one coming up from behind. Dean was surprised and, well, more than a little turned on by his BAMF angel.

Unfortunately, this distracted him just long enough to have a leg cut out from under him. He went down but quickly rolled onto his back just as the sword was coming down, missing him by an inch. As his attacker raised his weapon for another blow, he saw a sword come from over his head right into the orc's gut, killing the attacker. It was Cas, who smiled down at Dean just as a knife appeared at his neck and made a motion of slitting his throat. Cas fell to his knees, grasping his neck and just like that he was gone.

Dean scrambled to his knees, eyes still on Cas but it was too late, before he had a chance to get to his feet, a sword stabbed him in the back and he fell, head resting on Cas' shoulder. Two warriors who fell fighting for one another as Achilles and Patroclus of ancient legend.

In the end, Charlie's soldiers were able to hold off the Orcs so she remained the queen. Sam was one of the few survivors, along with Endor the Brave, who was knighted on the spot.

* * *

Exhausted and filthy, Cas pulled Dean up the stairs to his apartment and immediately pushed him against the wall, leaning into him for a slow, lazy kiss. Dean leaned back against the wall and relaxed when Cas nudged a knee between his legs, reveling in the feeling of Cas' mouth as it moved across his jaw and down his neck.

"Mmmm, Cas, you were seriously bad ass out there today. It was really hot. I didn't know you could swordfight."

"I am a dancer," Cas said as he moved his lips across Dean's jaw, "Eskrima is another form of choreography." He placed kisses down Dean's neck, "I am a student of the human body and its movements," Cas dipped his tongue into the hollow between Dean's collarbones, "I have studied several forms of martial arts as they include some of the most exquisite movements."

And that was all kinds of hot! The thought of Cas and those graceful and badass moves was filling Dean's mind with endless ideas. "What do you say we move this to the bedroom?"

Cas leaned back and gave Dean the most seductive smile he had ever seen. "Even better, the bath."

"Lead the way, angel."

Cas laced his fingers with Deans, turned around and pulled him to the bathroom. He turned on the water then turned back to Dean who was loosening his clothes. Cas caught his hands, "No, let me."

Cas turned Dean around so that they were both facing the full length mirror, Dean's back to Cas' chest. Cas reached his hands around Dean and slowly loosened his belt as he placed hot kisses on the back of Dean's neck, sending a shiver up his spine that made him have to grip the edge of the sink. Cas' deft hands then slid under Dean's shirt and explored his chest, swirling over nipples, causing them to become hard at his touch. He dug his fingers into the hard muscles just under Dean's collarbone and rubbed all the way down, massaging the strong muscles and pulling Dean tightly against him with hot pressure as his hands moved all the way south and slipped under the waistband of his pants. Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest on his lover's shoulder.

"Jesus, Cas, that's so nice."

Cas didn't give him relief, instead he rubbed small circles into the tender skin just above his thighs. Cas' voice was low and sexy when he rumbled, "Open your eyes, Dean, I want you to see how perfect we look together, how good you look to me." As he said this, he slid his hands back up, pulling Dean's shirt off over his head and throwing it to the floor.

Dean never liked to look at himself without clothes, his scars were too obvious, ugly mangled skin reminded him too much of war and fights. But Cas didn't seemed to mind at all, he would touch those scars with reverence and not judgment. Dean reluctantly opened his eyes and took in the sight of himself with Cas over his shoulder locking eyes in the mirror. And at that moment, Dean didn't see scars, he saw Cas with his hands wrapped around him, splayed out over his chest and Cas was right, the image of the two of them like this was flawless.

Dean watched with rapt fascination as those hands moved lower in an agonizingly slow movement as they undid the buttons on Dean's pants and slowly slid them down over his hips. Cas continued to drive Dean crazy with wet hot kisses across his neck and shoulders and between his shoulder blades while his hands worked their way to Dean's erection.

"I want you to see what I see, Dean." Cas whispered as he ran his fingers up the base of Dean's cock and began working the head, rubbing the pre-come around as lubricant. "You are breathtaking like this. Lick." He commanded as he brought his hand up so that Dean could wet it. Dean did as he was told and was rewarded when Cas went to work on his dick, stroking him in swift tender movements. Dean still couldn't take his eyes off the mirror, his breaths were becoming ragged and shallow. And Cas was sucking and nipping at the tender skin behind his ear, driving him wild.

Cas brought his other hand up to thread through Dean's hair, pulling it gently which felt glorious after a day wearing an itchy wig. Cas tilted Dean's head so that Dean's ear connected with his lips. The heat of Cas' breath and the gravel of his baritone sent a quiver up Deans spine as Cas growled, "I want you to watch as I make you come. See how beautiful you are when you come apart for me?"

"God, Cas, yes!"

Cas was focusing on him with that crazy intensity that was pure Cas. His blue eyes were dark and sexy and he smiled, a mischievous grin, as he squeezed Dean's erection harder, causing Dean to gasp. Cas quickened his pace, pulling and rubbing and feeling his lover's body tensing up as Dean fucked into Cas' tight wet fist. Dean wanted to look away, close his eyes, this was too much, too intense, too beautiful but Cas' soft purr of, "Dean, let go, look at us as you come," was hypnotizing and he focused on that voice and those eyes and the glorious pleasure that Cas was sending through him.

And with that, Dean exploded as his hips jerked and he reached behind him to pull Cas close, grounding himself against Cas' strong body. Cas worked him through his orgasm until his body was loose and he could barely stand. His head lulled back onto Cas' shoulder and he turned to kiss his lover but barely had the energy for more than a touch of lips.

"I think our bath is ready," whispered Cas turning Dean toward the tub as he cleaned off his hand. Dean sat down and winced at the hot water, but as he settled in, it surrounded him with soft heat and he let every muscle in his body relax into the water. He laid his head back onto the edge of the tub and closed his eyes.

"I love your bath, Cas." It really was a fantastic bathroom. When Castiel built his apartment, it had plenty of space. It was built over a ballroom, after all. If he had splurged on one thing when he built this apartment, it was the bathroom. He had installed both a walk-in shower and a corner Jacuzzi tub with warming lights and two smoked glass sinks in front of a large full length mirror that Cas would never again be able to look at the same after what had just transpired.

"I went a little crazy when I built this bathroom." Cas said as he undressed himself. "I suppose I like to pamper myself a bit."

Dean opened one eye and smiled at the man who was now standing naked in front of him. "Come here, I can do that."

Cas sat down in front of Dean and laid back against his chest, relaxing his head back onto Dean's shoulder. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, took a deep breath, and savored this perfect moment.

"Here, Cas, get your hair wet." Castiel leaned back into the water and sat back up, letting Dean massage a handful of shampoo into his hair. Dean took his time, working his scalp with nimble fingers, rubbing small circles and lightly scratching with his fingernails. Cas moaned with the pleasure of it. "Ah, you like that, huh?"

"Mmmm, yes."

Dean chuckled, "OK, lean back and rinse." Which Cas did then leaned back against Dean's chest.

With his hands lathered, Dean slid them down around Cas' neck and over his chest, kneading the muscles there until Cas was liquid beneath his fingers. Next he rubbed his thumbs up and down Cas' neck, across his shoulders and down his arms. One at a time, he worked the tension out of his lover's hands, through the tips of each finger. Dean loved these hands. It was captivating the way that Cas used his hands. He would sometimes just stare at his them as he danced or ate or just turned the pages of a book.

"Dean, tell me something about you I don't know."

"Um, I'm and Aquarius?"

"No, something real. Tell me about…hmmm… your first love."

"You've already met her. She is parked outside." Dean smiled at his joke and sucked on Cas' earlobe.

"No, I want to know who the first person who stole your heart was."

"Hmmm, there was Trisha in the third grade. She let me see her underwear. It was life changing."

"Deeeaan"

Dean laughed, "Fine. I guess that would have been Michael. Actually, he is the only other guy I really dated. He was the typical high school jock, wide receiver for the football team, played second base on the varsity baseball team. We worked together and hung out all the time. And you know one of the things that was so great about him? He was awesome with Sammy.

"We were friends for a few months then… well… my dad found out about us. He hit me and forbid me to see Michael. He never looked at me the same again. And the worst part was that he punched me in the face so I couldn't even hide the bruise from Sam. I never wanted Sammy to know about Dad." Dean's voice had lowered to a whisper as he recalled the memory.

"Dean, I'm so sorry."

"You know, I think about what it would be like, dating you, if he were still alive. I just can't see how something this good in my life could be so hated by my own father. Aren't parents supposed to want their kids to be happy?"

Cas turned his head back and reached behind him to pull Dean's mouth down to his. The kiss was gentle, chaste, comfort. "From the way you described him, your father seemed like a very complicated man. He was capable of both deep love and fierce violence. I don't know what he would have thought of us. All we can do is live our lives the best that we can and let those around us choose to accept us or live with the loss of us if they choose not to."

"You make it sound so simple," Dean replied with a bitterness that he hadn't intended.

"I don't mean to. It's far from simple. As simple as it should be, we live in a world that insists on making it complicated and messy and difficult. Just look at all that happened to me. I just mean that sometimes our choice is peace or freedom. Peace is the status quo, not rocking the boat, that's easy. Freedom is the choice to live as the people we are and sometimes it's the harder path."

Dean made a noncommittal hum with Cas' words in his mind. The fact that there was a need to choose one or the other kind of sucked. One included Cas and the other denied himself this man. Peace was not having to deal with stares, jokes, and judgments. It was "normal" and safe. But it didn't include Cas. Freedom was this, this man that fit perfectly in his arms that made him fucking light up when they were together.

It had been almost a month since their trip to Corpus Christi and Dean had managed to avoid just this conflict. Sam knew about Cas, which of course meant that Jess did too, but he was kind of cruising through on a don't ask don't tell policy with everyone else. He didn't actually lie because no one had asked him outright the nature of his relationship with Cas so it was easy to avoid having to make the choice.

Dean thought about the almost perfect day he had just experienced with Cas. The LARPing was fun and Cas was sexy and fantastic but spending the day with both Cas and family had been nerve-wracking. Everything in him wanted to touch and kiss Cas or even just hold his hand but he had spent the whole day being self-conscious of those touches. He had managed to perch on the edge of that choice today, a precarious balancing act.

Peace or freedom? It wasn't fair and it made Dean's head hurt and he wasn't prepared to make any choices just yet so he shook it off and concentrated on the feeling of the hot water, soft lather of the soap, and the smoothness of Cas' skin against his.


	16. Midnight Tango - Steve Miller Band

The phone in Dean's pocket buzzed as he lifted his head out from under the hood and wiped the thirty-year-old dirt and oil from his hands. It was a text from Sam reminding him that this Saturday was Ellen's birthday and they were all going to meet at Bobby's house for a family party. The text was an unwelcome reminder that he still hadn't told anyone in his family about Cas except for Sam.

For the last couple of weeks, he and Castiel had been spending as much time together as their schedules would allow. Dean worked mornings and Castiel usually scheduled classes until about seven in the evening so Dean liked to go home after work, get cleaned up, and show up at Castiel's so they could enjoy a late dinner and evening together. They had spent every night (except Fridays as those were still reserved for Sam) in each other's beds and couldn't get enough of touching one another. He loved every minute of the time he spent with Cas and until that text, he was able to avoid the idea of telling Bobby about his relationship.

He knew he needed to tell Bobby and Ellen but he didn't know how. He was afraid of how his family would react to the idea of him dating a man. Every time he tried to think of a way to talk to Bobby, the memory of his father would come to mind. The anger, the disappointment and the disgust on his father's face were seared into his brain and he was terrified of seeing that look from his surrogate father.

The situation had him working distracted, which is never good when you are elbow deep in the engine of a '78 Chevelle that was absolutely refusing to cooperate, its bolts rusted together through the years. He gave one final angry shove at the stuck wrench and the rusted bolt finally squealed its objection as it budged from its spot, but the wrench slipped and his hand lurched forward and slammed against the sharp edge of the engine block, leaving a gash along the back of his wrist and a swelling bruise.

Dean let out a litany of curses as he sat in his office bandaging his wrist, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to do any more work today. Defeated, he grabbed his keys and told Victor that he was taking the rest of the day off.

When he pulled into the dance studio, Castiel was still with a student so he hung back by the door to watch the end of the lesson. He recognized some of the movements from this dance. It looked like the one that he had watched Castiel dance with Pamela that first time they met. He stood in the doorway and leaned one shoulder against it crossing his arms and legs and took in Castiel's graceful moves. Damn, he loved watching that man dance. It was all power and passion and it was hot as hell.

When the lesson ended, Castiel spotted Dean and gave him a warm smile and told him that he would be right with him. Dean ambled over to check out the rack with all of the studio's music on it while he waited for his boyfriend to escort out his student and lock up the studio. Castiel shut and locked the doors and dimmed the lights before walking over to Dean and snaked his arms around his middle, placing a gentle kiss on the back of Dean's neck. Dean was finally able to let out the breath it felt like he had been holding all day. He gave Castiel an appreciative hum and smiled for the first time that day.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean turned around and greeted the man properly by pulling his face forward with both hands on his cheeks to lose himself in the kiss. He took Castiel's mouth greedily, tongue darting forward to taste all of him. He slid one hand down Castiel's back, pulling his body closer so there wasn't a breath between them while he snaked his other hand up to thread in the short hairs at the base of Castiel's neck. This was what he needed, to drown himself in the touch and taste and smell of his lover.

Dean knew Castiel could feel his urgency as he responded to every one of Dean's physical pleas for more. Castiel gave him everything that he needed and more. He nudged Dean backward until his back hit the mirrored wall and he slid his knee between Dean's legs, pushing their bodies further together. Soon, Dean was able to lose all thoughts of wrecked cars, dead fathers, and conversations he wasn't ready for and was able to think of nothing, feel nothing but Castiel. This is what it felt like to be kissed senseless.

Eventually, Castiel broke the kiss and Dean's head lulled back against the mirror as he looked into those blue eyes through heavy lids. Castiel caressed his cheek and brought their foreheads together and whispered, "Dean, what is it?"

"Just a bad day, Cas. It's better now, though."

"Is everything alright?"

"Cut my hand and… just… stress I guess."

"Oh, are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine, it's just a cut. I just… just a lot on my mind." Dean looked away from Castiel's eyes.

"Come on, let's have some dinner and see if I can't take your mind off of it," Castiel said suggestively, drawing a small smile from Dean. He took Dean's hand in his own and led him up the stairs to his apartment, where they began moving around the kitchen together preparing supper. The men chatted casually about their days as Castiel prepared the salmon glaze while Dean cut up the fresh green beans. Dean peeked over Castiel's shoulder and reached around him to dip a finger into the viscous honey concoction, sucking the sweetness off his finger, humming in appreciation. Castiel grinned and took Dean's hand into his own, bringing the man's still wet finger to his own mouth and sucking while making wicked sounds.

"Cas, you're going to have to stop that now or I'm going to have to defile your kitchen," Dean quipped.

Castiel chuckled and gave Dean his hand back along with a fake pout. Dean shook his head and thought about how nice this was with Cas. This sort of domesticity that they had created was comfortable and sweet and sexy and everything that he wanted… almost.

His life was still separated into silos. There was his family – Sam, Bobby, Ellen and Jo. And then there was Cas. How great would it be to bridge that gap and bring Cas into his family? He wondered what it would be like to have Cas sitting next to him at a family Thanksgiving dinner, knees touching under the table, or curled up together under a blanket on Bobby's couch drinking spiked eggnog and opening presents Christmas eve. But would Bobby ever accept Cas that way? Would he think less of Dean? He knew he wasn't ready to face that yet.

The sound of the oven door shutting drew him out of this thoughts and he turned to see Castiel grab a drink from the refrigerator and perch on one of the stools at the kitchen's small island to wait for their food to cook. Dean joined him, pulling his stool close enough that he could enclose Cas' legs with his own, and listened to him talk about his work - he was starting up a new youth dance class that he was excited about – and he was able to get lost in the timbre of Castiel's voice and get away from the turmoil in his own head for a little while.

After dinner, Dean headed into the living room to put on some music then sunk down on the soft couch, slinging his arm over the back, creating a space for Castiel to lean next to him. But Castiel walked into the room with a smile on his face and two small plates in his hands. Pie! Damn, Cas was awesome!

The two men ate their deserts until Castiel dipped his fingers into the sweet apple filling and sucked it off slowly, looking at Dean with a provocative smirk. When Dean barely reacted, however, Castiel became concerned. He had been learning Dean's body language, and could tell that he was still wallowing in his anxiety. He put down his plate and stood up, pulling Dean up to meet him and dragging the man to the bedroom.

He knew when Dean got like this he needed to be taken apart, pulled out of his head, and swept up so that he could release some of the tension he had been carrying around. He pushed Dean down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs and attacked mouth, tasting the tart sweetness of the pie on the man's tongue.

Dean needed this. He needed the feeling of letting go and letting Cas take control. He could forget for a while all of the stress and anxiety he felt and let Cas work him, take him, build him up so that he could crash over the peak of pleasure and release everything on the way back down. Cas' strong arms moved him, lifted his legs and worked him open, maneuvering and steering his body at will to bring him to the edge of ecstasy. And when Cas entered him and rocked their bodies together over and over, Dean let go and let himself fall into the white wave of pleasure until all of his thoughts melted away as he focused only on the love in the blue eyes above him.

* * *

Castiel awoke to the ragged screams of the man next to him, causing a chill to run through him and make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Heart pounding in his ears, he looked over at Dean. He was sweating and his eyes were franticly darting around beneath their lids as his arms twitched and fought against the phantoms in his dream.

"Dean," Castiel leaned over and shook his lover gently on the shoulder, "wake up, Dean."

Dean inhaled a huge breath as his eyes flew open and landed on Castiel. When they did, Castiel could see the realization that it was just a dream paint across Dean's face as the tight, strained muscles began to soften and his eyes drifted shut again. Dean brought his arm up and laid it across his eyes, "Sorry, Cas. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Dean, I don't care that you woke me up. I just worry about these dreams. This one seemed more difficult than most." Castiel laid his head back down onto his side so he was facing Dean, with his arm still draped across his chest, pulling him close by the shoulder, trying to share his warmth and draw his partner into the safety of his arms.

Dean drew in a heavy breath, letting it out slowly, trying to calm his frayed nerves. He finally turned his head and met Castiel's eyes. Castiel could see the pain and need there that he would do anything to alleviate. He gently rubbed his knuckles over Dean's cheek before moving a few sweaty strands of hair that were stuck to his forehead. Dean's eyes fluttered shut as he soaked up everything from the loving touches, pulling them inside with everything he could to fill the aching hole in his heart.

"What were you dreaming about?" Castiel whispered.

"Don't remember," Dean said but Castiel could tell that it wasn't the truth.

"I want to help."

Dean sighed, "You can't help, Cas. It's my shit to deal with. I just… I can't talk to you about it."

"Why?"

How could Dean explain the dark things inside of him, how broken he was? What would Cas think of him if he knew the truth, if he could see the images that haunted Dean at night? He couldn't lose Cas. He needed this man, and couldn't risk seeing the disappointment in his eyes if he knew what Dean had done, was responsible for. "I just can't, OK? Can you just leave it?"

"No, Dean. This is hurting you and I just want to understand why."

Dean fear and anger got the better of him as he spat, "I don't know, Cas, probably the same reason why you don't fly anymore!"

Castiel withdrew his hand from the back of Dean's neck where he had been swirling his fingers through the short hair there and Dean immediately felt empty at the loss of the touch. Dean closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the wounded look on Cas' face. He didn't want to do this, not now. So he opened his eyes and turned on his side to face Cas and took his hand, "Shit, Cas, ignore me. I'm just tired and on edge. Can we just not talk about this now? Not tonight?"

Castiel nodded and threaded his fingers with Dean's. "Come here," Dean whispered and pulled Cas to his chest so that he could bury his nose in the top of Cas' hair and feel his warm breath on his own neck as they wound arms and legs around one another. Neither man spoke again as they drifted back into sleep.

* * *

Castiel awoke curled in Dean's arms with his back to Dean's chest, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of Dean's breathing. He had only slept a few hours and was feeling anxious and restless after Dean's nightmare. He needed to move, to do something with the nervous energy buzzing through his limbs so he gently extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. After a quick stop in the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth, he headed, like he always did at times like these, to his dance floor.

He needed to move, to stretch, to feel the pull of his muscles and the warm ache through them that would work the stagnancy from his body. A good workout always cleared the cobwebs from his mind and helped him think better and last night had given him a lot to think about. Castiel only turned on the small lamp, providing him with a soft dim light to dance by, and hit play on the stereo, turning the volume down low enough to not disturb Dean. He didn't really care what music was playing, he wasn't listening anyway. But the music floated around him and encouraged his body to start moving.

The song was Aerosmith's _Dream On_ and the initial simplicity of the solo guitar riff moved Castiel's limbs, stretched the coiled muscles. When Steven Tyler's soulful voice began to sing, the raw emotion of the lyrics began to register and Castiel let the song carry his body and his mind.

_Every time I look in the mirror_

_All these lines on my face getting clearer, the past is gone_

_It went by like dusk to dawn, Isn't that the way?_

_Everybody's got their dues in life to pay_

As the drums and guitar built a crescendo, Castiel was lost to the music, spinning a passionate story with his body. He leapt and spun and reached until his heart felt like it was in synch with the pounding rhythm of the bass.

_Sing with me sing for the year_

_Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear_

_Sing with me, just for today_

_Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord'll take you away_

The dance felt fantastic and Castiel sat down and leaned his head back, closing his eyes to relax and just feel the blood pumping through his veins with the workout and relish in the endorphins as he felt his heartbeat returning to normal. His head felt clearer, and his mind wondered back to Dean. Something was really bothering him and he had been reluctant to talk about his PTSD and said it was for the same reason that Castiel hadn't flown in years. Maybe Dean was right, maybe both of them were stuck because they hadn't taken the steps necessary to fully heal from the past. He realized that as long as he didn't fly, he was neglecting an important part of who he was.

Lost in his thoughts, Castiel didn't hear Dean until his sleep-scratchy voice rumbled right next to his ear, "Hey, Cas."

Castiel gasped at the unexpected presence and his eyes shot open. There, standing in front of him, leaning over with his hand on the back of his chair was Dean. Castiel smiled up at the man who had the most adorable bed head and was rubbing the sleep out of one eye with the heel of his hand. "Missed you, woke up and you were gone."

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. I thought dancing would help me clear my thoughts so that I could rest."

Dean settled onto Castiel's lap, straddling his legs and resting his forehead on the dancer's shoulder, nuzzling a few soft kisses to his neck. "Does it work?"

"Yes, actually… Would you like to see?"

"Huh?"

"Will you dance with me, Dean?"

Dean thought for a moment then nodded and placed a quick kiss on Castiel's lips before standing up and offering his hand to help his partner up. Castiel took his hand and stood up, a breath away from Dean when the man asked him, "How about that one you were doing when I came in last night? It was seriously sexy." Dean grinned and waggled his eyebrows at him.

Castiel raised his eyebrows, "You want to learn the tango?"

"Sure," Dean shrugged at the surprised look on Castiel's face.

Castiel couldn't help the smile that pulled at his mouth. He loved the tango and Dean was willing to dance this with him. He turned around to walk towards the stereo to change the music to a tango but Dean caught his arm and spun him back around, pulling him in for a kiss, which he smiled into.

Once a slow orchestral tango was playing in the background, Castiel walked up to Dean and told him, "OK, the American tango is easy. I can teach you three basic patterns that everything else is built upon. You start by walking forward on your left. Go left, right, left, side, together. The timing is slow, slow, slow, quick, quick."

Castiel demonstrated and Dean was able to pick up the basic move easily. Within a few minutes, Castiel stepped into Dean's personal space and wrapped his arm tightly around his partner's shoulder, locking his right hand in Dean's left. "This dance is closer than the others you have learned," he whispered seductively in Dean's ear, "there should barely be any space between us."

As the music played, the men began to move together, circling the small dance floor as one. They laughed when steps were missed and flirted through learning the corté step. When Dean stepped back to pull Castiel into the corté, Castiel would lean in close, arching his back and lining up their bodies from toe to fingertip, a move that was pure aphrodisiac to Dean.

The music was soft and sultry and soon the dancers began to get caught up in the mood of the song and the feel of their lover in their arms. Somewhere along the line Dean stopped counting steps in his head and let his body relax to just react to Castiel. And it was beautiful and fun and intimate and passionate. Castiel threaded his left hand along Dean's neck into his hair and drew their bodies so close that their cheeks were touching and Dean hummed in approval.

Dean was beginning to feel more confident with the steps as the lesson went on and Castiel let him take the lead. He smiled to himself as he lead Castiel to the edge of the hardwood and instead of doing a turning step, kept going, leading Castiel backwards until the back of his legs hit the arm of the couch and Dean pushed him gently backwards, laughing as he followed and straddled Castiel's hips. Castiel laughed too, surprised by Dean's actions, but certainly not disappointed.

"Lesson over, Cas," Dean said as he reached his hands under his boyfriend's shirt to explore the man's chest, "that was hot." He leaned forward to trail kisses over the smooth abs.

Castiel chuckled into the kisses and accepted everything Dean had to give, reveling in the touch and the passion that their dance had inspired. He loved the way the movements of dance could speak a language all of their own without needing any words and he had felt so much in every step of their tango. The connection that the dance created as their bodies were moving in perfect rhythm together to the sultry music was beautiful and inspiring to him. And a realization hit him that he needed to do something else for himself and for Dean.

He pushed back on Dean's shoulders, stopping the man's exploration of his torso with his mouth, which pulled the most beautiful pout across Dean's face as he looked down at Castiel and asked, "What gives, Cas?"

"Dean, I think I want to fly again."

Dean smiled, "Really? That's awesome, Cas."

"I'm tired of feeling incomplete and broken."

Dean nodded and looked away, "Yeah, me too…. I'm so fucking tired of reliving shit with my dad and the war in my head when I close my eyes."

"Dean, you know you can talk to me… or Sam or Bobby or a professional. Just please, talk to someone. This is hurting you and I hate it." Castiel wound his hands up Dean's neck and into the hair behind his ears and pulled their foreheads together.

"Yeah… yeah, I know. I just need some time."

"Of course," said Castiel and he brought his lips gently to Dean's in a soft kiss before Dean deepened the kiss and they made love to the melancholy tango playing in the background as the first rays of the morning sunrise peeked in through the windows.


	17. Great Gig In The Sky - Pink Floyd

It was the day of the big reveal and Dean had worked his ass off to get this one right. He knew that Josie's Thunderbird was going to be showcased at the air show, which would be great advertising for his business too. Josie had agreed to his quote, which included a discount on labor if she would allow him to advertise that the restoration had been done by Singer and Son. But he had another motive too.

The Thunderbird had come out beautifully. Dean had opted for a very dark red base, almost black, so that the phoenix art would really stand out. The front hood, of course, was where he centered the image of a firebird, whose huge red, orange and yellow wings were outstretched as it looked like it was flying up out of lava, which trailed down the sides of the car. The Phoenix company logo and name were painted on the trunk in matching colors that stood out against the dark background of the car.

He must have gone for a dozen test drives, checking every system again and again for any imperfections. He really wanted to get this showcase piece right. He walked around the car one more time, trailing his hand over the smooth metal, taking a final moment to enjoy his work. "OK, gorgeous, you ready to shine? I really need this one to go well, so let's show her what you've got," he whispered to the car. Dean was brought out of his thoughts by the distinctive clicking of Josie's heals headed towards him.

She was once again the picture of perfection and classic beauty. This time she was in a tailored dress that looked like she just stepped out of a 1950s fashion magazine. Her hair was again pulled up and she was still wearing that blood red lipstick Dean noticed as she flashed a dazzling smile.

"Dean Winchester, very nice to see you again," she purred.

"Same here, Ms. Abaddon. We are all finished with the Thunderbird and I think you're going to like how she came out. We were able to get out all of the dents and repair the rust on the body and I think the artwork came out great. Also, we had to rebuild some of the engine but with the new transmission, it now shifts like butter. Here she is."

Dean took a step back to let Josie walk around the car, scrutinizing the details. Dean felt nervous, which was odd for him. He was usually so confident with his work and he knew that this car had come out great. The nerves, he figured, had more to do with what he was planning. "You want to take her for a drive?" He held out the keys and headed for the passenger seat. Josie nodded, took the keys and sat behind the wheel.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean got out of the car trying his best to hide his nausea. OK, he was a fast driver, but Josie? She was ridiculous! She had taken them out on the highway, weaving in and out of traffic with the speedometer needle rising up and up well into the triple digits. Dean Winchester wasn't afraid of much, but this woman gave him the chills. He wondered if it would be in bad taste to kiss the ground as he stumbled out of the car.

Thankfully, though, Josie was happy with the results and they headed back to Dean's office to settle accounts. Once there, Dean gripped the side of his desk and took a huge drink of water to calm his nerves before sitting down.

"Wow, you sure can handle a car." He tried his best to smile at her, feeling his adrenaline levels returning to normal.

"My company makes airplanes. I am used to going pretty fast." Josie flashed him that million dollar smile. OK, here was his opening.

"So, speaking of airplanes, I was wondering, do you need any pilots?"

* * *

Dean could barely sit still as he drove with Cas riding shotgun in the Impala. Dean had refused to tell Cas where they were going. He had just said that he had a surprise for him. Dean thought he was being pretty clever when he popped a Pink Floyd cassette in to blast _Learning to Fly_ and he grinned as he sang along with fervor.

_Above the planet on a wing and a prayer, My grubby halo, a vapor trail in the empty air_

_Across the clouds I see my shadow fly, Out of the corner of my watering eye_

_A dream unthreatened by the morning light, Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night_

_There's no sensation to compare with this, Suspended animation, A state of bliss_

_Can't keep my mind from the circling skies, Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I_

Dean was enjoying the confused squint on Cas' face. He wasn't sure Cas really liked to be surprised, but he didn't care. He was pretty damn certain that this was going to be a good one. He couldn't wait to do this for Cas. He wanted to do anything to make this man happy. After all, the last couple of months that he had been with Cas were pretty much the happiest he could ever remember being. They had been spending as much time together as they could and he couldn't wait every day to lock the doors to the shop and head over to Cas'.

His anxiety was already starting to feel a little lighter, the dreams becoming more spread out and even when they happened, it was getting easier to calm himself down by curling up in Cas' arms or pulling the man close in his own. Yeah, Cas had helped him in so many ways and he was pinging with excitement that he could do something for Cas.

As they got closer to the regional airfield, realization dawned on Cas face and he breathed, "Dean, are we going flying?"

Dean grinned, "You are, angel. My feet are staying firmly on the ground." Dean took a moment to watch the expressions change on Cas' face. He had at first had that awed look, rounded eyes and mouth slack but then something like apprehension must have set in because he shifted his eyes down and bit his bottom lip. But then Cas took a deep breath and it was alike a veil lifted as his mouth turned up into a smile that traveled up to his eyes, making those little lines at the corners of his eyes all wrinkle and Dean's insides did a little flip at the joy he saw on Cas' face.

"How?" Cas breathed the word in wonder.

"That Thunderbird I have been working on? Belongs to Josie Abaddon, none other than the owner of Phoenix Specialty Aircraft. I told her about you. She said she can always use a part time test pilot. You could still keep the studio and fly like once a week testing her stuff! We are going to meet her here and you get to show off your awesome skills."

Cas took Dean's hand in his own. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, just show her what you can do."

They pulled up to the airport and Josie was standing outside of her hanger, looking amazing as usual. Today she was wearing olive cargo pants, a snug leather bomber jacket and knee high dark brown leather boots with her signature high heels of course. She walked straight past Dean and right to Cas.

"Castiel Krushnic? I'm Josie Abaddon." She held out her hand in that ridiculous palm down fashion again. Dean smirked behind her as Castiel looked to Dean with a confused expression.

Castiel shrugged shook her hand saying, "Lovely to meet you as well, Ms. Abaddon."

Josie looked back at Dean and smiled. Apparently she was liking Castiel already. "It's Josie, please. I have read your file. Great qualifications, perfect flight record. Your certificate is on file in my office so I think we have everything we need."

Castiel was taken aback. File? Certificate? How did Dean arrange all of this? He took a moment to look dumbfounded, then caught himself and stumbling out, "Uh, good," before looking to Dean, who was leaning back against the Impala with his hands crossed over his chest looking ridiculously smug.

"Ash. I had him get all the paperwork to Josie." Castiel was pretty sure he didn't want to know how Ash had gotten access to military records so he just went with it.

"Sorry, Josie, I was a bit taken aback by all of this."

Josie smiled at her co-conspirator, "Yes, Dean said he wanted this to be a surprise. Now, touchy-feely moment aside, do you want to get back in the air or not? We can talk in flight."

"Yes… please," Castiel managed.

"Perfect, come with me." She started to walk around the building, followed by Castiel when she turned around to Dean, "You coming, gorgeous?"

"Naw, I hate flying. I'll leave you to it." He winked at Castiel, who smiled back at him and mouthed the words thank you before heading off with Josie.

* * *

Castiel couldn't believe that he was seated in the pilot's chair of a helicopter again. This was smaller than what he was used to, but the feeling was the same. Josie had brought him to an aircraft that she said they had just finished customizing. It had been commissioned by the Lawrence Police Department and was already pained the distinctive blue and white. She stood back while he walked around the machine, feeling its body with his hand. The rush of familiarity came back to him as he walked through his pre-flight checks. It was exhilarating. How could he have forgotten that pre-flight high he would always get?

He started it up and could feel the powerful machine come to life around him. The vibration of the engine was intoxicating. It filled him with a rush of anticipation. Then the blades began turning, and with each increasingly fast beat of their rhythm, Castiel could feel the energy thrumming through him. He was ready to fly once again!

After one final check of all of the settings he gave the controls that final push that would let him defy gravity. He was ascending towards the sky. He felt light, free again. Flying would always put him in his own world where it was just him and the sky that surrounded him in every direction.

Everything else forgotten, Castiel concentrated on the weightlessness, that indescribable feeling of hovering, high above the earth. Everything made sense up here. The earth below looked like a picture perfect scene. The sun reflected off the skyscrapers of the city to their west, feats of human skill and ingenuity. He flew over miles of wheat fields that the early summer sun had turned into soft oceans of golden waves. And below him suburban life went on peacefully. He was far above human pain and suffering and conflict.

He loved it up here and he began to think about Dean, who had given this gift to him. Dean, who had helped him heal from his past, who had shown him love and trust, who had found a way for him to get his wings again. And he knew then that all of the broken roads he had traveled in his life had led him here. He felt with absolute certainty that Dean was his destiny.

* * *

Too soon the flight was over and Castiel was descending back to the earth. Josie had been impressed with his skills and said she would be happy to bring him on as one of the test pilots. They shook hands and agreed to hammer out all the details next week when Castiel would come to her office and she clicked her way off and headed into the hanger.

As Castiel jumped out of the helicopter and his feet were again on the ground, he thought he would feel that familiar sense of a weight holding him down but he didn't. He knew now that he wasn't grounded. That he would fly again soon and his heart felt lighter because of it.

Dean was alone in the parking lot waiting for him, perched on the back of the Impala with his feet resting on the bumper, leaning back on his elbows. He looked magnificent with the summer sun highlighting the freckles that it had recently painted across the man's cheeks. Castiel felt an overwhelming love for this man who had given him back everything: love, freedom, and his wings. When he walked over, Dean looked up and smiled at him, and he could barely breathe with the sight of it. He met Dean as arms enfolded each other and he laughed. He didn't even know why he was laughing, but he couldn't stop. He just felt so light and free and elated.

"Damn, what's so funny?" Dean said as he pulled back.

"I don't even know." Cas was shaking his head and tears were building in his eyes. "I guess I am just happy, really happy. Thank you so much, Dean." Dean wiped his cheek as one of the tears had spilled over.

Dean reached up and grabbed the back of Cas neck and pulled him in for a kiss, which Cas leaned into, settling comfortably between Dean's legs. It was glorious. He had flown today, actually flown! And now, back on the ground he was being held and kissed and grounded safely in Dean's arms. He was the sky and Dean the earth and this was his horizon.

* * *

The next morning as they lay in bed, Castiel rubbed a finger lazily across Dean's chest. "Tell me about your tattoo. Does this mean something?" Dean had a tattoo on the left side of his chest, under his collar bone. It was all black ink and looked like a star inside a sun with wavy rays coming off of it.

"Yeah, it's kind of dumb. Sam and I got matching ones when we were younger. They were," Dean huffed a small laugh, "for protection."

Castiel leaned up on one elbow so that he could look at Dean's face. "Oh, now I am thoroughly intrigued. Protection from what?" He leaned over Dean, placing a gentle kiss at the corner of his eye, another on his jaw, and a lingering kiss that turned into a gentle suckle at that soft spot behind the man's ear, loving the contented hum that escaped his lover. Then he nestled down into Dean's neck, soothed by the sound of his lover's heartbeat.

"Well, it kind of started with my amulet." As he spoke, his hand automatically came up to feel the metal of the object he had worn around his neck since he was a child. "I was about ten years old and we were living in some crap motel in the middle of nowhere. It was Christmas and Sammy wanted to get my dad a present so he raided Bobby's house when we were there while my dad was away looking for work. He found this amulet and Bobby said he could keep it. Bobby loves to read about ancient religions and lore and even collects some religious objects so it was really cool of him to let Sam keep it. You should have seen him, Cas. God, he was such a snot-nosed little brat but no one could say no to him." Dean smiled with pride thinking about his nerdy little brother.

"So by Christmas he was all excited to give it to my dad. Bobby told him that this thing was the symbol of some ancient god of the hearth and it would guide the wearer home so Sam believed that it would keep my dad from disappearing for days at a time. But wouldn't you know it; dad was a no show for Christmas? I stole a couple of wrapped presents so Sam would think Santa had come but they turned out to be girl stuff." Dean laughed remembering the scene. "You should have seen his face when he opened a Barbie doll! It was hilarious and freaking sad at the same time. What a fucked up childhood, huh?" He tried to smile at Cas, but the smile on his face didn't reach his eyes. A smile rooted in sadness never does.

"Dean, you have every right to be disappointed in your father. There is no need to trivialize your feelings about that with me."

Dean thought about this for a moment. He had been pretending for so long that all the shit he had to deal with was no big deal. Cas was the one person with whom he could talk to about it and he knew that Cas would be accepting of his feelings about his father. Cas would never tell him that John did the best he could or that he should give the man a break since he lost his wife. Cas just accepted his anger and validated it. It was such a rare thing to find in someone and Dean felt an overwhelming gratitude for this man in his arms.

"Thanks, Cas." Dean caressed Castiel's cheek and threaded his fingers through his hair, placing a slow kiss on his forehead, smiling into it. He let his hand trail slowly down his lover's back, resting on his hip. "So anyway, Sammy was pissed at my dad for missing another Christmas so he gave the amulet to me instead. I've barely taken it off since."

"That was a wise decision for Sam to make. I can see how you have treasured the gift. I have so much respect for the way you are with Sam. I always wished I had someone in my life like that. You should consider yourself very lucky, Dean." Castiel continued to rub his hand lazily over Deans shoulder, back and forth, in a motion that was lulling Dean into a warm and relaxed state. "But how did that lead to a tattoo?"

"Well, I was always with Sam. I mean _always_." He emphasized this with a roll of his eyes and a huff of laughter. "When my dad would go away for days at a time, telling us he had to go on some interview or look for work, I had to take care of Sam. So he decided that the amulet worked because I was always home with him. You know, Cas, I guess we were home for each other.

"Sam was so impressed at how well the amulet worked, he got really into reading about lore and stuff. He started borrowing books from Bobby or reading crazy old religion stuff he found at local libraries. That phase lasted several years. You know the kid taught himself some Latin so that he could translate old documents? I mean, who does that? He was this crazy 13 year old kid walking around knowing how to exorcise demons. He could name a hundred different monsters and stuff from lore. It was weird, but you know, I was so damn proud of him for being such a unique kid I didn't even mind. He even got an A one time for writing a story about our family fighting werewolves, and the story was supposed to be non-fiction." Dean laughed, remembering Sam coming home so proud of his story.

"So long story, well… long at this point, one time we were on our own and our place got broken into by some junkie. The guy was all hopped up on something, probably meth, and was really freaking strong and he had a knife. It took both of us to fight him off. Sammy ended up with a serious shiner and a broken wrist. I flipped out when I saw him hurt Sam and I threw myself on the guy and like an idiot, I landed on the damn knife. It didn't even go in very far so no major damage, but it sliced across my stomach and there was so much fucking blood! I was bleeding all over the damn place and kicking the shit out of this guy and Sammy was screaming. I finally knocked the guy out and we ran, hid out in an abandoned house for a couple of days until I spotted the Impala and found dad."

Dean took a deep breath and turned his head. He hadn't talked about that in a long time. It was the first time he had ever seen Sam hurt and he remembered the terror that overwhelmed him as he feared for his brother's life. He could still feel the raw rage that took over as he attacked the man, he probably could have killed him if he hadn't noticed Sam was hurt and he left the guy bleeding on the ground to get Sam to the hospital.

Castiel leaned up onto his elbow and looked at Dean, who had turned away. He put his hand on Dean's cheek, cupping his jaw, gently bringing his face back to Castiel's so that he could see the man's eyes. Those green eyes, shining now with a tear that threatened to spill over, locked with his and he felt an overwhelming love for this man, who had probably saved his little brother's life.

"Dean, I am so sorry you experienced such violence. If this is something you don't want to talk about, I understand."

Dean bit his bottom lip then melted into those blue eyes and felt the pain ease. Cas always seemed to have that effect on him.

"No, its cool, I just don't usually talk about it. You know, why relive shit like that? So, anyway, after that Sam was pretty freaked out. He had nightmares and got really jumpy. He found this symbol in one of his books." Dean tapped his finger to his chest at the tattoo. "It is supposed to ward off evil. He begged me to get a tattoo of it and to let him get it too. At first I flat out refused but he wore me down and I figured if it made him feel better, what the hell? So we found some shady tattoo parlor that didn't care too much about age. I mean he was tall for his age but he was still only like 13, all gawky and pimple faced. I still can't believe they let him do it. So we got matching tattoos. He was a tough kid. I thought he would cry or something but he kept a straight face the whole time. So, there you have it, I am officially protected against evil."

Castiel smiled at him and brought his lips to Dean's, kissing him long and slow, searching but soft. It was beautiful and perfect, this kiss. He licked at Dean's upper lip as the man opened up to him. Castiel took the invitation and lightly licked into Dean's mouth, touching and exploring and teasing with soft little flicks, nothing rushed or urgent. The feel of these soft touches, though, made Dean feel like he had gone to heaven. He could lose himself in the way Cas sucked his bottom lip, touched and teased at his tongue, making him shiver as he rubbed it against the roof of his mouth.

Dean let out a whimper when Castiel brought his hand up and threaded it though his hair, giving it a gentle squeeze as he deepened the kiss. Cas made him feel loved and treasured and he could let go and swim in the emotions and the touch of this man.

"You are beautiful, Dean," whispered Cas as he slid up and placed a kiss on Dean's closed eyelid. "I love your eyes, you wear your heart there and I can connect to your soul through these eyes."

He moved down and nipped at Dean's earlobe. "I love your ears, because you use them to listen. You really hear me and make me feel valued."

Next, he focused his attention back to Dean's mouth. "But your mouth," Castiel hummed a pleased sound as he leaned down and kissed his lover in a deep, passionate kiss. "I could kiss these lips all day."

"OK, I get it, Cas. You're embarrassing me."

"Shhh," Castiel soothed, "you never let anyone take care of you. Relax and let me." Castiel brought himself up to straddle Dean, leaning over to gently place a kiss on his tattoo. "I love your ink. It represents how much you love and protect your brother. You care for others with everything you have."

Castiel sat up and took one of Dean's hands, bringing it to his lips. He spread Dean's fingers out and kissed the tips of each one, slowing down to suckle for a moment on one. Dean's eyes fluttered shut and he moaned. Castiel grinned and kissed Dean's open palm. "I love your hands. These are the strong hands that you use to build the works of art at your shop. They were strong enough to rebuild my broken car, and soft enough to rebuild me."

Leaning forward, he placed a quick kiss and a soft bite on Dean's shoulder. "Your shoulders carry so much weight. You have been burdened with more than anyone should have to bear alone. I love the strength and grace with which you have done so. Let me shoulder some of that with you."

Dean brought his hands up and threaded one through Castiel's hair, the other sliding up his spine.

"No, Dean. You can lay still and let me take care of you. Just enjoy."

"God, Cas, fuck." Dean was getting restless and didn't know if he could just be still. His hands grabbed at the sheets to ground himself.

"That's it. I've got you. Let me cherish you."

"Cas, it's too much. I don't - "

"Do not say you don't deserve it, Dean." Castiel growled into his ear, cutting him off. "I want to show you that you deserve to be loved... saved… treasured." Between each word, he kissed the man traveling down his torso.

"Fuck, Cas. Why? Why me?"

"Dean, I am telling you why. Just listen." He breathed this last word, softly blowing air over a strip of wet skin he had just licked, rewarded when it pulled a gasp and a shiver from Dean.

Castiel traced a finger slowly over the scar on Dean's stomach that the knife had left behind. It was thin now, just a line of skin a shade lighter than the rest of the man's body, still a slight raise in the texture. Leaning down to places kisses across it, Castiel began, "Even your scars are part of what I love. Each one is a chronicle of your bravery and sacrifice. I hate that you experienced pain to get them, but they are a part of what make you precious to me, each one is a part of your story. This one stands for family. And this one," he moved down to kiss the scarred flesh on Dean's thigh, "stands for sacrifice and duty."

This was all too much for Dean. It was making his head fuzzy, the attention, the care that Cas put into every movement. He was drowning, flying, falling, losing control. His hips bucked up when he felt the unexpected touch of Cas' hand as he rubbed the palm of his hand up the base of Dean's erection. He was so hard it was practically painful, and he didn't know how much more of this he could take.

Castiel slid even lower, sliding his hands around Dean to cup his ass and caress down the backs of his thighs. "I love your legs for they brought you to me, to dance with me." He gently separated Dean's legs, stroking the insides of his thighs, lightly scratching with his fingernails, an action that brought a rush of blood to his paramour's already hard dick. "I love when you dance with me, to feel our bodies moving together to music." He kissed his way up the inside of Dean's thigh, sucking a small red mark on the delicate skin at the top of his thigh.

"Oh, God, Cas!" Dean groaned when he finally felt the wet heat of the man's mouth as he took him in with one slow motion. "Yes, that is… fuuuuck!"

Castiel pulled off and licked a line from the base of his cock to lick the pre-come from the slit. He brought his mouth over just the head, swirling his tongue and applying pressure to the sensitive spot just under the head. Castiel moaned when Dean's back arched and he sucked in a gasp.

He looked up at the man splayed out beneath him. He loved making him come completely undone, seeing him release everything that usually kept him coiled so tightly and just let go. "That's it, let go," he coached, humming onto Dean's dick, the vibration washing him with a rippling thrill. "I love when you are like this, open and exposed for me. It's so fucking sexy."

Dean had to smile at the curse coming from Cas. He was usually so controlled with his language. It seemed that he wasn't the only one losing it here.

Castiel pulled Dean further into his mouth, sliding him in and out to an increasing rhythm until he could feel his lover hit the back of his throat. He hummed again, pulling a gasp from his lover's lips.

He hollowed out his cheeks and sucked as he increased the rhythm, placing one palm flat across the man's stomach, grounding him. Dean finally couldn't take it any longer, he brought his hands up to Cas's head, reveling in the motion of their bodies moving together. "Cas, oh God, Cas. I'm close. Shit! Cas!"

But Castiel wasn't done with him. He squeezed the base of Dean's cock and slowed his motions, holding off his lover's climax. Dean groaned in protest. "I want you inside me, Dean."

And Dean could totally get on board for that. "C'm here," Dean pulled Cas up and kissed him deeply, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the lube. He was just getting ready to place some on his fingers when Cas took the bottle. "No, Dean, let me. Just relax, enjoy."

Dean couldn't believe this man. This wasn't sex, this was a religious experience. How could someone look at him with such adoration, care for him with such reverence? It was all too much.

Dean watched as Castiel lubed his fingers and began working himself opened as he sucked at his neck. His other hand reached behind Dean's neck and met him for a mind-blowing kiss. It was deep and sexy as fuck and perfect. Castiel's lips opened for Dean to explore with his tongue, licking across his lips and teeth, delving deeper into his mouth, trying Cas' trick from earlier, licking across the roof of his mouth. And, yes, that was perfect. It pulled a low moan from Castiel.

God, he loved to hear that voice so low and wrecked. It went right through him. "Cas, you are so fucking sexy like this." Castiel pulled back and smiled down at his lover and yep, game over, Dean knew that this man was the love of his life. He was about to say so when Cas moved and slid down over Dean's cock, in one agonizingly glorious movement.

Cas was hot and tight and perfect around him. And he had both hands on the sides of Cas' face as he brought their foreheads together, feeling their deep breathing settling. Then Castiel began to rock his hips, sliding them together in a splendid motion. They were still looking into each other's eyes and it was sensual and bonding and flawless.

"Oh my God, Cas, you are so… ah! Fuck!"

"Dean," Castiel downright moaned his name. "D-Dean," he said again, this time in a breath, whispered, shaking. Every time he heard his name escape from Cas' lips it did something to him. It was like it was more than a word or a name. Cas said 'Dean' like a prayer, a benediction, a veneration.

Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him as Castiel rode him. He knew he was on Cas' prostate when he looked up and could see the man above him coming apart in his arms. His eyes closed and his head flung back as he could feel the pressure coiling inside him. "Cas, I'm gonna…"

"Yes, Dean, come for me. Wanna feel it."

Dean reached between them and stroked Cas' cock in rhythm with their movement and it was glorious. Dean arched up and quivered as waves of pleasure brought him through his orgasm. When Castiel looked down and saw Dean come completely undone he let go too as his white seed washed over Dean's hand.

Cas collapsed on top of his lover, nuzzling his face into his neck. They lay there for several minutes sated and awash in pleasure. When Castiel pulled off of Dean it took everything in him not to whimper at the loss of fullness.

He got up and went to the bathroom to run warm water over a washcloth. He came back to the bed, sat down on Dean's side and washed him with a reverence that broke something inside. Dean didn't know what he had ever done to deserve this man and he could feel that familiar fear rising up inside of him. It felt like standing on the edge of an unstable ledge that could break off and send you tumbling down at any moment.

"Stop it," Castiel growled.

"What?" Dean was pulled out of his brooding by Cas and he looked up to meet his eyes.

"Stop thinking that you don't deserve this, Dean. Good things do happen. And you," he emphasized by leaning down for a soft kiss, "are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Let me return that favor."

"Shit, Cas, you are the best thing in my life too. It's just… fuck… I guess I am just not used to good things lasting. And, you don't know. There's stuff in my life I'm not proud of and it feels like you are too good, like I don't deserve this."

"We have all done things we regret. I didn't fall in love with you for what you have or have not done. It is your soul that is so bright. Dean Winchester, you have more heart than anyone I have ever met and I was drawn to you like it was my destiny. Trust that this good thing can last."

Castiel tossed the washcloth into the hamper and curled up next to Dean, his back to Dean's chest, pulling the soft covers up to their chins. Both men were happier at this moment than they could ever remember being before. They fell asleep with Dean pressing light kisses to the back of Cas' neck.


	18. Fool In The Rain - Led Zeppelin

"Hold still, gigantor," Dean grumbled at Sam as he reached up to straighten the younger man's tie. "Shit, you're a wreck."

"It's my wedding day? I think I am entitled to a few jitters."

Sam had been pacing the room all morning like a caged tiger. Dean sighed and pointed at the bed, "Alright, sit down. I guess it's time for the big brother talk."

Sam did as he was told and sat down on one of the twin beds in the small room that he and Dean used to share at Bobby's house. He hadn't slept there in years, but last night he and Dean had shared this room again so that Jess and her family could have their house to get ready in. It was, after all, bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. It had been a fun evening. He and Dean, lying in the twin beds across from each other, laughing like old times.

They were both way too big for this room and these beds now, but he remembered a time when this little corner of Bobby's house had seemed like a palace. It was here that he tacked his first poster to a wall. It was of Einstein and Dean had called him a nerd as he hung his AC/DC poster on his own side of the room. They had spent their entire lives feeling like everywhere they stayed was temporary, borrowed, someone else's. This was the first space that he had ever called his own and it would always hold a special place in his heart.

Dean sat down across from him, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, commanding Sam's full attention. "Listen, Sammy. In a few minutes we are going to walk out that door and you are going to marry Jess because she is perfect for you. And you are going to treat her right because that's what I taught you to do and you're gonna be happy and make babies and have a perfect apple pie life. And you know why? Because you are Sam freaking Winchester! You and I have survived shit that would send most people running for the loony bin but look at you. You worked your ass off and put yourself through college. You're a big shot lawyer. And you landed a hottie like Jessica Moore."

Dean leaned in closer and put one hand on Sam's shoulder pointing at him with the other, "I have _never_ doubted what you could do, not for one minute. So don't start doubting yourself! Got it? Now, I'm going to go make sure Bobby and Ellen are ready to get out of here and so that we can head to the church and I can give my baby brother away. Now where's your veil, princess?"

Sam gave Dean a bitch face that would score a perfect 10 as Dean ducked out of the room with a grin.

He sat now, ready to permanently close a chapter of his life and begin a new one with the woman he loved. He was nervous. Jess was wonderful and supportive she and Dean had this great connection. He didn't know what he would have done if those two hadn't hit it off. They both meant so much to him. Dean can be a tough person to really know. Oh, everyone that met Dean liked him right away. He was fun and flirty and he charmed most everyone. But he let almost no one in past that mask he wore all the time. But Jess was able to see past it and he had seen her get through to Dean about things he used to only share with Sam.

He was thinking about the family that Jess wanted and really that he wanted too, more than anything. But he was scared, really scared. What kind of role model did he have? John? He was absent much of the time and when he was there he wasn't exactly an example of a normal and healthy parent. He had been raised by a big brother who had battled with his own abandonment and daddy issues and identity struggles the whole time. It made for a really complicated upbringing.

It was Dean, after all, who had taught him everything from how to tie his shoes to how to talk to girls and how to fight off bullies. He had to spend his youth raising a little brother while trying, too often in vain, to be the perfect son and assert his individuality and independence from his father at the same time. Sam had taken a different route and didn't even try to please John. Dean was his care giver and it was Dean's expectations that he tried to live up to. It was a much more gratifying path to choose. Dean always seemed proud of him.

It was then that he realized it. He didn't have to worry about not having a good role model for the kind of husband and father he wanted to be. He did have a role model and a pretty damn good one at that. Dean was the man he wanted to live up to. It was Dean's willingness to sacrifice for the people he loved and his limitless capacity for love that he would emulate.

And with that thought in his mind, he took one last look around at the room of his youth. He and Dean's sides of the room each reflected their own young personalities. Dean's side of the sloped attic wall was covered in classic rock, muscle cars and half-naked girls. Sam shook his head and laughed when he looked at this own side of the room. What the hell had he been thinking with that 'N Synch poster? Also, right next to Einstein, still pinned all around were the religious symbols that back then he was certain were going to ward off bad luck and his rabbit's foot still sat on the nightstand.

How life had changed for both Winchesters. Dean had made fun of him for the 'N Synch poster, calling it gay. Dean, who had now left those half-naked girls behind and fallen in love with a man. And Sam was ready to leave his fears and superstitions behind and dedicate his life to the real task of being the best husband he could. He turned off the light and closed the door behind him with a smile.

* * *

Dean stood beside his brother at the front of the church, scanning the pews for Cas. They had come separately since Dean was obligated to be with the wedding party and it had been a busy and stressful morning. He just wanted to set eyes on Cas, who could always calm him with just a smile.

He finally spotted Cas, who was already staring at Dean like he was one seriously juicy piece of meat. He knew he looked good in his tux but the sight of Cas' eyes roaming over his body with just that hint of a smile was enough to make Dean wonder if someone had turned off the air-conditioning in the church. Dean gave Cas a wink and a little straighten of the front of his jacket to let Cas know that, yeah, he knew he was being checked out. Cas' licked his lips and his mouth widened into a full smile that took Dean's breath away.

Cas was looking pretty damn good himself. He was wearing a crisp white shirt with a slim fitting waistcoat that had a dark blue paisley pattern on it with a blue tie, which he knew damn well brought out the color of his eyes. Over it he was wearing a navy suit jacket. He had tamed his hair today so that it was parted to the side rather than his usual sex hair. Dean couldn't wait to bury his fingers in that hair and return it to his favorite debauched look.

Soon the music began and the wedding was in full swing. Dean took a look at his brother when Jess appeared and felt a prickle at the corners of his eyes and a lump in his throat to see his brother so happy. Jess did look fantastic. She wasn't the frilly princess type. She had opted for a form fitting cream-colored long silky dress with a low scooped back and just the hint of a train. She was classic and understated and elegant and Dean was so happy for his brother he was about to burst.

When Sam and Jess were saying their vows, Dean took a look back to Cas, who was watching with rapt attention. He had one hand on his mouth and Dean could tell he was getting, well, a little misty during the emotional moment. Cas looked so moved and so vulnerable and for just a moment, Dean wondered what it would be like to hear Cas say 'I do' in that low voice while looking into those eyes that he could drown in.

* * *

The wedding was beautiful and touching and Sam and Jess looked like they were walking on cloud nine. At the reception, when it was time for the first dance, Castiel stood up in the back of the hall to get a full view of his students. He was so proud of how well Sam and Jess danced to Bob Dylan singing _Make You Feel My Love_. He was such a sap! He was getting emotional again as he watched the couple moving across the dance floor, impressing their guests. He thought the song that they had picked out was perfect.

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear_

_And there is no one there to dry your tears_

_I could hold you for a million years_

_To make you feel my love_

Sam swayed Jess back and forth, leading her in a graceful underarm turn, a flirty Cuban walk and then a sexy rock of their hips that got applause from the audience. Castiel smiled at a job well done, swelling with pride to see his students do so well. Dean and Charlie were announced next and they went to the dance floor to join the newlyweds. Dean looked amazing. He was dancing as Castiel had taught him and leading Charlie, who looked like she was having the time of her life. Castiel smiled to himself thinking about the time he taught Dean that dance.

Dean sought out Castiel's face over the crowd and they locked eyes as the song played. Dean mouthed the words as he stared at Castiel.

_The storms are raging on the rolling sea, and on the highway of regret_

_The winds of change are blowing wild and free, you ain't seen nothing like me yet_

_I could make you happy make your dreams come true, there is nothing that I wouldn't do_

_Go to the ends of the earth for you, to make you feel my love_

Castiel felt every word from Dean and smiled back, feeling more in love than he had ever felt before.

* * *

Later, Dean sat down at the table next to Cas with two drinks, handing one to Cas. "You're sure a hit at this wedding. Man, the ladies line up to dance with you." Cas had been asked to dance repeatedly through the evening. Between looking amazing in his suit and, naturally, being a great dance partner, he was quite popular. He had now stripped down to shirt and waistcoat with the tie removed and sleeves rolled up.

"Yes, well, when you are a professional dancer, it does seem to call attention. Dean, I would really love to dance with _you_," Cas said hopefully, putting a hand over Dean's on the table. Dean stiffened and shifted his eyes around but didn't remove his hand.

"I already promised the next dance to the flower girl, you don't want to let down a 6 year old, do you?" Just then, as if on cue, Jess' niece came over and jumped into Dean's lap, forcing him to free his hand to hold her.

"C'mon, will you twirl me, Dean?" The little girl begged, squeezing Dean's cheeks with her chubby little hands.

"Sure, sweetheart, let's go." Dean flashed a smile at Castiel and headed back to the dance floor with the little girl on his hip, spinning her around as she flung her head back and giggled. Castiel smiled. It was wonderful watching Dean with children. He was sweet and natural and didn't talk down to them like many adults tended to do. And they absolutely flocked to him.

But something had been bothering him all evening. This was one of the few times that he and Dean had been in this type of environment with family and friends. Usually their time spent together was with just the two of them where Dean was open and unselfconscious. But tonight he had found ways to avoid looking like a couple. He was frequently busy greeting guests, had made the excuse that as the best man he had to dance with the bride and each of the bridesmaids, he disappeared into the bar with a few of Sam's colleagues to check the score of the Royals game, or he would put his feet up on the chair across the table and say that he needed a break.

Castiel tried not to be annoyed by this, he really did. He told himself that dating a man was new for Dean and that he would get used to this. But they had been together almost three months now. He told himself to be patient with Dean, that his father's deep seated homophobia still ate at him. Maybe, he thought, Jess' family didn't approve of a same sex couple. All of this swirled around in his mind as he tried to fight off that nagging feeling of being an embarrassment to Dean.

He watched as Dean danced and flirted with all of the pretty ladies and drank and joked with all the men. And that ugly little seed of jealousy began to eat at him. Try as he might to push it down, ignore it, justify it away, it kept gnawing at him, telling him that Dean wasn't serious about him, that Dean would never want the same things that he wanted from this relationship.

Castiel knew what he wanted with Dean. He wanted Dean to be his, forever, to build a life together. Watching him today had lit a fire under that small thought and it now burned in Castiel's heart. He knew this was the man he wanted to be his family.

After Dean's flower girl dance, he headed back to Castiel, picked up his beer, finishing it in one long gulp and leaned over, whispering into Cas' ear, "Come with me." Then he stood up and strode over to the door.

Castiel followed him outside and was rewarded as he stepped out into the fresh summer night. The clear air and the start of a light summer drizzle were a refreshing respite from the crowded reception room. Castiel caught up with Dean as he strode through the parking lot and Dean grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the Impala, parked far away from the reception hall. Dean spun Castiel around, pressing his back up against the side of the car and attacked him with a ravenous kiss he had been holding back all night.

It was all teeth and tongue and hands and passion. "Fuck, I wanted to do that all night." Dean began working feverishly at the buttons on Castiel's waistcoat as Castiel pulled up on Dean's dress shirt to get to the skin underneath. They stumbled their way across the car, as Dean fumbled for the door handle. When he finally got it opened, he grabbed Castiel around the middle and laid him in the back seat, hovering over him, sucking and nipping searing hot kisses down his neck, marking Castiel as his own.

Castiel opened up willingly for Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and arching his back to provide easier access for Dean's kisses. Dean worked the buttons of Castiel's shirt to expose the man's perfect chest, pulling it down over Cas' shoulders as he ground his hips into his lover's and delved into his open mouth with his hot tongue. It was glorious and the sight of Cas laid out underneath of him on his beloved Impala's soft back seat might have been one of the hottest things he had ever seen.

Dean sat back to quickly remove his own shirt as Cas slid his arms out of his so that Dean could press their bodies together and feel the thrill of skin on skin. Castiel moaned Dean's name and exposed his neck for Dean to kiss. Dean reached down and cupped his lover's erection through his pants, rubbing it to provide much needed friction, which resulted in Cas' voice taking on that so low and goddamn sexy rumble. "Dean, that's so good."

And that voice did things to Dean that were positively sinful, his own cock hardening with every sound coming from his lover's mouth. "God, Cas, you're so sexy. Tell me you're mine."

"Dean, yes, yes, I'm yours. I love you." Castiel was writhing and arching into Dean's every touch as their bodies melted perfectly together.

"Fuck! I want you so bad, need you." Dean quickly worked the buckle of Cas' belt and the buttons of his pants to slide them off, exposing Cas' rock hard erection. Dean watched in fascination as it twitched and leaked pre-come, knowing that he did that. He was the one that could make Cas' body come to life like this.

He licked the pre-come and swirled his tongue around the head of Cas' cock, making Cas' voice hitch as he sucked in a gasp. Dean smiled, enjoying every one of Cas' reactions. He loved how responsive Cas was to his every touch, how the always so controlled Castiel would release his inhibitions for Dean to wantonly and willingly give Dean everything.

Dean sucked two fingers into his mouth, slicking them with saliva before sucking Cas' erection into his mouth, enjoying the feeling of it's thick swell on his tongue. As he bobbed his head, finding a rhythm that he could see was pleasing Cas, his fingers trailed lower between Cas' legs and teased at his hole. Cas, who had been threading his fingers through Dean's hair sucked a gasp of air in through is teeth and clenched his fingers, tugging on Dean's hair, pulling a moan from both men.

Dean let a trail of saliva travel down Cas' cock, knowing that it was going to have to do for lube here in the car. He gently slid one finger into Cas who let out a cry of "Deeeaan" to reward him. Cas was so hot and sex in the Impala was such a turn on that Dean feared he could come just from the feeling of Cas coming apart under him and saying his name like that. He increased his pace and suction of his mouth, passion escalating.

With two fingers inside of Cas now, Dean worked his lover open and into a climax, teasing his prostrate as he deepened his blow job taking in as much of Cas as he could and sucking with furious abandon. He could feel Cas was close, as his muscles tensed and movements became erratic and he looked up, wanting to see Cas' face as he came undone. Cas still had one hand on the back of Dean's head and the other was gripping the black leather of the Impala's seat, knuckles white. "Dean, yes, I'm going come!"

Dean hummed mm hmm and the vibrations on his cock pushed him over the edge. Cas' hips bucked involuntarily as came in wave after wave of unbridled bliss. Dean swallowed everything Cas had to give and patiently worked Cas until he was spent.

Dean pulled off of Cas and smiled up at him. He looked so sexy all sweaty and spent and sated. He waited for Cas' breathing to return to normal and then gave his fingers a little wiggle, smirking. Cas gasped, "Oh my God, Dean!" And Dean chuckled and slid his fingers out to work his own pants off (finally!). Lifting Cas' legs up and kneeling under Cas' thighs, he leaned over his lover and kissed him long and slow, feeling Cas smile under his lips.

As Dean entered Castiel both men moaned low and guttural and God, the feeling of his lover around him was like heaven. His mind blanked out of everything but the pleasure building in him and those beautiful blue eyes, so dark and lusty now. Dean rocked in and out of Cas in long slow loving movements at first, watching as the man relaxed into the blissful strokes.

But Castiel pulled him by the back of the neck into a searing kiss, his tongue exploring Dean's mouth, rubbing against his own tongue and the roof of his mouth, a heady dizzying feeling. And Dean sped up his strokes, needing more and more of Cas. He wanted Cas as his own. Wanted everything about Cas. He buried his face in Cas' neck, sucking hard, pulling the blood to Cas' flesh, reveling in the possessive satisfaction it gave him to mark his love on this man.

Cas was rolling his own hips in time with Dean as he buried himself fully and Dean loved the feeling of Cas wanting him, all of him. He came with Cas' name on his lips, thrusting into his lover over and over until he was spent then collapsing down to the feeling of arms and legs wrapping tightly around him. It was such a soothing and comforting feeling and Dean felt like this was home.

A few minutes later, they had arranged themselves so that Dean was leaning back on the door with Cas laying back against him, four arms tangled around Cas' middle. Dean was sucking gentle kisses down the side of Cas' neck and Cas leaned his head back onto Dean's shoulder, relaxing into the attention.

"Dean, Can I ask you something."

"Anything." Dean was nuzzling at the back of Cas' neck happily.

"Why wouldn't you dance with me tonight?"

Dean paused, heat ran up his neck and he could feel his pulse quicken. "I just didn't have time. I mean I'm the best man. I have a lot to do."

Castiel took a deep breath and slowly risked, "Are you embarrassed of us?"

"Do we have to do this now?"

"This is important to me, Dean."

"No, it's just… I don't know… those guys, I mean, that place was full of people and they might… shit, Cas… I don't know."

"Dean, there are always going to be _people_. I do not want to hide a relationship again. The last time I did it destroyed everything I had. I can't do that." Cas' voice dropped off to barely a whisper, "Not again."

Dean was feeling too drunk for this conversation. Shit, where had this gone wrong? One second he was having some seriously hot sex in the back seat of his baby and the next Cas was confronting him about this? The mood whiplash combined with too much alcohol was a bad combination and Dean went to his standard reaction when cornered with a discussion he didn't want to have – defensive mode.

"Shit, Cas. I'm not doing this now! It isn't a big deal! Why should my private life be anyone else's business?" Dean sat up and started putting his clothes back on, jerking legs into pants and shoving his t-shirt over his head.

"It's not about that. I want us to be together, a family, maybe even kids someday. That's kind of hard to accomplish if you can't acknowledge us publically."

"What the fuck?! Kids! Slow down there, Cas. I'm _never_ having kids! You know what kind of fucked up childhood I had. No, I am not bringing a kid into the world to fuck him up like my dad did!"

Castiel had gathered his own clothes into a pile on his lap, awkwardly fumbling through them, slowly dressing himself.

Dean mumbled, "Shit, I thought one of the benefits to being with a guy was not having to worry about this stuff!"

Castiel was taken aback. "I don't know what you think we are doing here, Dean." He was getting upset now too, the jealousy and feelings of being left behind all night finally brewing to the surface. "I will not be your dirty little secret, someone to fuck in the dark and deny in the daylight!"

"That's not what this is!"

"Oh yeah? Then what is it exactly? What have you told the guys at the shop about me? Do they still think I'm just a paying customer? Does Bobby even know?" Cas growled this last part slowly, squinting at Dean to get the truth.

Dean was silent.

"Dean Winchester, you are emotionally constipated. You are still being held back by your father's bigotry and I will not let his hatred anchor me down too."

"You know what? Screw you, Cas! I'm emotionally constipated? I'm not the one who pined away for a dead guy for three years!" Dean knew immediately that was below the belt. It was uncalled for and inaccurate and really off topic. Castiel froze, his mouth opened as if to respond but nothing came out. He felt as if he had been slapped. He had to get out of the car where he suddenly couldn't breathe.

Castiel grabbed the handle and stumbled out, slamming the door on Dean's, "Wait, Cas!" He walked away and didn't look back.


	19. Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

Dean sat in the car and tried to clear his head. The rain was coming down harder now. How fucking cliché! His mind drifted to another time he had made love to Cas in the rain. Damn it! It was so easy then. No family, no prying eyes, no questions or judgments, just him and Cas.

He thought about what Cas had said - family. He did love the sound of the word family attached to Cas. He could absolutely see coming home to Cas every night and waking up with him every morning. God, in the past couple of months he had found himself watching the clock in the afternoons that he knew they would see each other, eager to get out the door and see Cas' face. But a picket fence and a kid? No way!

What the hell did Cas want, a ring? And seriously, was he really talking about kids after just a few months together? Didn't he know how the assholes out there would treat them? He had spent his life cringing at gay jokes and faggot slurs, even laughing along to hide the shame of what he had done in his youth. His own father had told him loving a man was wrong and he could still sometimes see the tiny scar high on his cheek to prove it.

Why did it have to be so complicated?

And he hadn't told Bobby. Dean worried about how the gruff Midwesterner would take finding out that his surrogate son was with another man. Bobby wasn't exactly flying rainbow flags. What if he reacted the way his father had? He was family but he had to see him every day at work too. He didn't know what he would do if Bobby started looking at him differently. Maybe he wouldn't even want to be business partners any more. The idea of being rejected by Bobby terrified him more than he wanted to admit.

Cas' words rang out in his head: _peace or freedom_.

He felt his anxiety levels begin to rise and that awful feeling start taking over his gut. His stomach was turning with the increased adrenaline and his mind began filling with images of sand and blood and sounds of screaming and bullets and the taste of blood. And for the first time, when he closed his eyes it was Cas' face he saw, bloodied and broken on the ground as he struggled to wake the man whose eyes held no life. No! No! No! He reached the heels of his palms up and pressed his eyes, hard, to make the horrible image go away. Not Cas! Not Cas! He couldn't lose Cas!

He blindly reached for the handle of the car and stumbled out into the drizzling rain. The feeling of the cool raindrops against his face pulled him back to reality, cooled his overheated skin and helped him steady his breathing. He turned around and rested his forehead on the roof of his car and waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal.

Then he turned and headed back into the reception hall to chase the bottom of every bottle he could get his hands on. He found a dark table in a corner where he wallowed in his anger and his guilt and seethed at the whole fucked up situation.

Sam eventually found him and sat down, taking the half empty bottle away. "Dean, what's going on? Where's Cas?"

"Gone. Probably for good. And gimme that back!"

"No," Sam said as he moved the bottle to the table behind him. "What happened?"

"I fucked it up like I always do! I guess your goddamn wedding brought out the girl in him because he started talking about family and shit and how he wants me to tell everyone about us. And…" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut sighing, "I haven't told Bobby, Sam. I don't know how." Defeated, Dean laid his forehead on his arm, outstretched across the table.

"First of all, you have no reason to hide your relationship. If someone doesn't like it, screw 'em. Second, Bobby is pretty observant; do you really think he doesn't at least have an idea? Shit, Jo figured it out months ago!"

Dean's head snapped up. "What, Jo knows? And she didn't say anything?"

"Everyone is kind of giving you space. They think you'll talk to them when you are ready. Clearly, they underestimated how stubborn you are."

"Screw you," Dean slurred.

"Seriously, Dean, do you think anyone cares that Castiel is a guy? You have been happier with him than I can remember ever seeing you. That's all we want for you."

"Sam, you should have seen Dad when he found me with Michael. Fuck! He was so repulsed and disappointed. He wouldn't even look at me after that. The last thing he really said to me was that he was glad he busted up my face so no man would want me. He was so disgusted by me. I can't see that look on Bobby's face. I just can't."

"That's what this is about? Dad was wrong for the way he acted. You know that. I hate that he did that to you, but Bobby has never been anything but accepting of us. He's not Dad. And you owe him the respect of giving him a chance before you decide that he will react like Dad did. Now, get your sorry ass up and go talk to Bobby and make this right."

"I don't think I _can_ make it right. I said something to Cas… I don't know if I can fix it."

"Dean, you fix broken and wrecked things every day. I have seen you work miracles at your shop and you brought the Impala back to life how many times? Look what you have done for Cas and you have no idea how often you kept me from falling apart. Fixing things… it's kind of your superpower. And this, what you have with Cas, if there's anything worth repairing, it's this." Sam put his hand on his brother's shoulder but Dean surprised him when he paused for a moment but then leaned in for a hug.

"Thanks, Sam."

OK, he could do this. He had to do this. Sam said Bobby already suspected anyway, right? Dean gave himself a pep talk as he headed over to the table where Bobby and Ellen were seated. Sam, awesome brother that he was, followed him over, and reached his hand out to Ellen inviting her to dance to give Dean some privacy with Bobby.

"Hey, boy, where you been hiding?"

Dean sat down in the chair across the table and steeled himself, "Bobby, I need to talk to you. It's about Cas."

"Le'me guess, you're in love and the two of you are moving to Vermont to open a B&B?" Bobby said, dripping with sarcasm.

Dean's mouth dropped open a bit before he caught himself. He almost smiled; Bobby always did have a way of getting past all of the bullshit. "Well, half right. We're dating. But I won't be moving to Vermont. 'Cause someone's got to keep the shop going and you're not as spry as you used to be, old man."

"Watch it, boy, I ain't too old to kick your ass."

Dean huffed a laugh and took a swig of Bobby's drink. "So, you don't care that he's a dude?"

"Why the hell would I care? He ain't in my bed! Does he make you happy?"

"Yeah, he really does. But, I don't know if that even matters. I don't think it's going to work. We want different things. He said he wants a family and I don't think I should ever have kids."

"Why not? You've been like the damn pied piper here all night with these rugrats."

"Bobby, you know what my dad was like. Actually, you don't. You didn't see him. He could be mean and violent and neglectful. And I hated him for it for a long time. I don't want to be like him."

"So don't be! Have you got that low opinion of yourself? Are you that screwed in the head?! You are a better man than your daddy ever was!"

Bobby leaned forward and pointed a finger at Dean, "You listen to me, boy. My daddy was a mean drunk, mean as the come. And I said the same thing you are saying right now. I would never have kids because I didn't want to be like him. And you know what? I've always regretted that decision because it came between me and my first wife. But life ain't about repeating the mistakes of our fathers; it's about making our own choices. Life gave me a second chance with Ellen and Jo and you and Sam. And I ended up with three kids and I have never been more grateful for anything. So you two want to hold hands and sail off into the sunset or go all two men and a baby then do it, cause life's too short to live in someone else' mistakes."

Dean didn't know what to say. He had never heard Bobby say so much in one sitting. But Bobby was right. Dean didn't know what the future was going to hold for him and Cas. Maybe it was an apple pie life complete with 2.5 kids and a dog, maybe not. But the point was, he knew he didn't want to give up on Cas, whatever that meant for them.

"Now, are we done with the Tele Novella moment so that I can go rescue my wife? I think your brother has stepped on her feet enough."

"Yeah, and Bobby? Thanks."

Dean resigned to make things right with Cas. He would head over to his place first thing in the morning when he was sober and cleaned up and he would sweep him off his feet and apologize and beg his forgiveness and promise him everything, nothing was off the table, as long as he would give him another chance.

* * *

Dean almost stopped for flowers on the way over. That's what you do when you're saying sorry to girls, right? But what the hell do you give a guy to apologize for throwing their dead ex in their face? Fuck! He was terrible at this. He finally decided the best thing he could do was just show up and offer his honest apology and Cas would take him back and bam! Makeup sex!

He was even excited and as he used the key Cas gave him so that he could sneak in and surprise the man, maybe wake him up with kisses and an apology and, hey, morning makeup sex! A hundred scenarios were going through his head and by the time he was climbing the stairs to Cas' apartment he was feeling much better about where this was going.

But when he got to the top of the stairs he froze when he heard voices; Cas' and a woman's. He hung back in the shadow, heart in his throat now. Pamela came strolling down the hall into the kitchen in nothing but one of Cas' shirts, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "Hey, hun, you want some coffee?" Hun? What the hell?! Pamela was standing half-naked in Cas' kitchen the morning after their argument!

Dean suddenly remembered what Cas had told him about Pamela, that they had hooked up a few times for, what did he call it, comfort? You've got to be kidding! One fight and Cas was fucking Pamela?! Dean felt sick. He had to get out of there. He waited for Pamela to head back down the hall towards Cas' bedroom (bedroom!) with two mugs of coffee and snuck back down the stairs.

As soon as he was through the front door, he felt the familiar constricting in his lungs and had to brace himself, leaning back against the red brick of the studio wall to keep his balance. Not now, he thought, I can't have a panic attack now! How had he been so incredibly wrong about Cas? And what the fuck? Talking about family and sleeping with someone else in the next breath?

Dean managed to get into his car and pounded his hand against the steering wheel, needing some outlet to take out his rage on. "Fuck!" He screamed at no one, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. This was why he didn't get close to people, why he usually stuck with one night stands. How could he have let himself care so much about Cas! He couldn't believe how much this hurt. Well, no more. He couldn't open his heart to be ripped out again. He was done with it all. He took off with the Impala growling underneath him.

* * *

Castiel came out of the bathroom to Pamela holding out a hot cup of coffee with a warm smile on her face. "You feeling better? Man, you were a mess last night."

"Yes, thank you for staying. My apologies for crying on your shoulder."

"It's fine, sweetie. I'm just glad I was still here. Lessons went long last night, with me having to cover for you to go to the wedding. Not to mention my date fell through. That Benny ended up being such a blood-sucker. You know he wanted me to pay for just about every date? Never pick up a guy dressed as an evil orc, you could get stuck in dating purgatory!"

At that Castiel laughed. He was truly grateful that Pamela was there last night. He had come home hurt and angry and just so tired of a world where his love was frowned upon and devalued simply because of gender. Pamela had listened to him rant for a few minutes. Then, with her usual tact, told him to shut up and get his ass to bed because this feeling sorry for himself was bullshit she wasn't going to put up with.

"So, what are you going to do?" Pamela asked as she walked over to the couch and began folding up her blankets from the night before and putting them back into the trunk.

"I need to talk to him. We both said things we shouldn't have. I insulted him and I can't just leave things like that."

"Well, that sounds a little more reasonable than the 'he can go to hell for all I care' crap you were spewing last night."

"Yes, I guess we were both a bit worked up. I didn't really mean to push. But, Pamela, I can't live in secret again."

"Castiel, you shouldn't have to. It isn't fair and you have been hurt enough by that crap. But think about what you were asking. Dean Winchester, consummate stud muffin, turning his brother's wedding into his coming out party? That's a bit much for anyone."

"I know. You're right," Castiel sighed, "But he hasn't even told his family except Sam. I feel like he is ashamed of me."

"Dean's crazy if he isn't proud as hell to be dating you. But, talk to him. Dean may be a stubborn jackass, but I've seen the way he looks at you and, honey, that man is crazy about you. You guys can work this out."

Castiel made up his mind to fix this, today. Maybe he _had_ pushed too hard. He would be patient with Dean and give him the space he needed to be more comfortable with dating a man. Maybe he could meet just a few friends and family at a time. Coming out at your brother's wedding, yeah, he thought, that was too big of a step. Castiel felt stupid and petty and selfish for not understanding how hard that would have been for Dean. He knew about Dean's father and the deep damage that he had done to his son. And if Dean needed take it slow, they could talk about family later. They had more pressing hurtles to get over first.

Pamela left and he immediately texted Dean. We need to talk

The response came quickly. Nothing to talk about. We are done.

Castiel stared at the message for several minutes before he could even think. He suddenly felt sick and a chill took over his whole body as he sunk back down onto his couch. How could they be done? Just like that. Was Dean that insistent on keeping their relationship hidden? Maybe he never intended to acknowledge Castiel to his family at all. Castiel could feel his heart breaking.

His fingers hovered over the face of his phone, ready to type once his brain could form a response. Nothing came.


	20. Angel - Aerosmith

Castiel was a mess. He couldn't understand where things had gone so wrong with Dean. He had tried to fix it. He called Dean but he wouldn't answer. He left messages and texted, all of which were ignored. He even tried going to Dean's apartment but he wasn't there and he wouldn't bombard the man at his place of work. It didn't seem possible that the man whom he had fallen in love with could be so stubborn over one argument.

Finally, he stopped trying. He was not going to be the person that Dean has so blatantly pointed out who pined for someone he couldn't have. And obviously Dean didn't want him. But he wasn't doing as well as he tried to convince himself. He was distracted and depressed and Pamela had even picked up a few lessons for him when she could see his mind was absolutely not in the game.

He couldn't believe that he had been so wrong about what he had with Dean. Sure, Dean had never _actually_ told him that he loved him, but he had done so many other things that all seemed to Castiel like they were born out of love. Maybe, thought Castiel, he was just fooling himself this whole time, seeing love where he wanted to see it. Interpreting Dean's actions as love because that's what he needed. Maybe Dean could never truly give his heart to a man.

He tried to do things to get his mind off of Dean. He couldn't look at the Austin-Healey without thinking about his time restoring it with Dean or their trip to Texas so he returned it to its storage garage, one tear falling down his cheek as he watched the car become enveloped in darkness again as he pulled the door closed and locked it away. He kept finding things that Dean had left at his apartment and boxed them up, shoving them to the back of the closest. Every time he looked at his phone, that stupid picture of Dean and him in their ridiculous LARPing getups taunted him until he finally changed his background.

But at night he dreamed fitfully of green eyes and strong hands and freckles and a deep voice whispering and singing low into his ear. And more than once Castiel woke with tears in his eyes.

Two weeks had gone by when Sam pulled up to the studio just as he was closing the doors for the evening.

Sam approached him cautiously, nervously shifting back and forth between his feet, "Hey, Castiel, can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Sam, please come in. How was the honeymoon?"

"It was great, but I came home to a drunk Dean on my couch. I asked him to keep an eye on my house while we were away, but he stayed there the whole time emptying my liquor cabinet." Castiel realized this was why he hadn't been at his home; he was avoiding dealing with him by hiding out at his brother's house.

"Bobby said he's having a hard time at work. Apparently he beat the hell out of an old car they had out back with a sledge hammer and scared some of the employees at the shop. I know you guys had a fight and he says it's over and he won't talk about it at all. He is really in bad shape and, I don't know, I thought maybe if I talked to you… He'd kill me if he even knew I was here."

"I believe Dean was being honest with you about ending our relationship. We did have an argument, but he has refused to speak with me since that night. I told him that I didn't like hiding our relationship and he got angry. I realize now that I shouldn't have pushed him to reveal us in that situation. I know it's difficult for him."

"Cas, he told Bobby about you guys the night of the wedding, soon after your fight. Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash. They all know and everyone was fine with it. The last I saw him that night he was coming here to apologize to you."

Castiel took in a sharp breath and breathed, "He told everyone?" Sam nodded but Castiel shook his head and sighed, sad and resigned, "I suppose he reconsidered because I haven't heard from him since then, nor has he responded to my texts or calls. I'm sorry, Sam, I don't know what else to tell you."

"This doesn't make any sense. I came over here today to beg you to give him another chance. I thought it was _you_ who wouldn't talk to _him_." Sam huffed a laugh. "I even had a speech prepared about how stubborn my brother is but how he is worth it too."

Castiel gave Sam a sad smile and put his hand on his arm. "You don't have to tell me. I want nothing more than to make things right between us. I love Dean very much. But I fear that feeling isn't mutual."

"No, Castiel. He loves you. I know he does. Listen, I think we are going to have to force Dean's hand, here. Will you come with me to talk to him?"

"Do you think that's wise? He won't like being ambushed."

"Yeah, well I don't like pissed off drunken Dean crashing on my couch. And I want to see my brother happy and he was never as happy as when he was with you."

Castiel nodded that he would go with Sam, as he tried to keep his anxiety about the situation from showing on his face.

* * *

Castiel sat in Sam's car, wringing his hands. He wanted to speak with Dean but wasn't sure how he was going to take Sam bringing him to his house, showing up unexpected. Well, he figured, it couldn't get much worse so he didn't really have anything to lose.

When they arrived at Sam's house, Dean had just gotten out of the shower and Castiel froze as he took in the sight of Dean, so beautiful in just jeans with his hair still wet. Castiel ached to touch him, smell him, taste him. It took every bit of willpower in him not to cross the living room and kiss the man until he melted under his touch. Dean pulled on a dark green t-shirt and growled, "What. The. Fuck. Sam!"

"Dean, I'm sorry, but I am not letting you just avoid this anymore. I asked Castiel to come here and talk to you. You both need to hear each other out. You don't just give up that easily on family."

Dean positively roared, "After what he pulled, don't you ever fucking call him family again!"

"Sam, I'm sorry, I think this may have been a mistake." Castiel said quietly and started to turn around towards the door.

"No, please, just a minute, Castiel." Sam grabbed Castiel's arm to stop him and out of the corner of his eye caught Dean flinch at Cas being grabbed. That had to be a good sign, right? He turned back to his brother, "Dean, all Cas was asking was to be acknowledged. That isn't too much to ask. You told Bobby about your relationship so what's the problem?"

"You think that's what this is about?! Sam, Cas cheated on me!"

Sam and Castiel both looked dumbstruck. Sam took his hand off Castiel's arm and focused a glare on him that made Castiel want to shrink back. Facing the full force of two angry Winchesters was something akin to standing in the path of a tornado. Their wrath was terrifying and sent a chill through Castiel.

"I didn't… what are you-"

"I saw you, Cas! You know, I was actually coming up to apologize! And I saw you with Pamela. I can't believe you fucked her after we had one fight!"

"Dean, I didn't sleep with Pamela."

"What was she doing in your apartment wearing nothing but your shirt?"

"I was upset after our argument and she was still there after classes. She listened to me when I needed someone. She slept on the couch… like she always does." Castiel was getting angry now at Dean for jumping to such a conclusion and stepped right up to Dean, far into his personal space. Dean instinctively took a step back. Cas was a bit shorter than he was but could still be one intimidating guy when he wanted to. He positively thrummed with a power Dean never could explain. "And she was in one of my shirts because it is a better sleeping option than a ballroom gown! Hell, that shirt covered more of her than most of her ballroom costumes do! Do you really think so little of me that you believe me capable of what you are accusing?" Castiel sighed and shook his head then turned on his heel and walked out the front door.

It was Dean's turn to look dumbstruck. His brain was processing Cas' words. He had spent the last two weeks working himself into a fury believing that Cas had betrayed him. Was it just a stupid misunderstanding? His head was spinning with Cas' explanation. When he had walked in and Pamela was there he had been shocked and hurt and had spent a large part of the last two weeks drinking away rational thoughts. He suddenly felt incredibly foolish. Cas had told him that Pamela sometimes crashed at his place. Fuck! Why had he overreacted so much? Was he really so petty and jealous and insecure?

All he knew was that the thought of Cas with anyone else drove him crazy. He knew that Cas was amazing. He was smart and talented and refined. Dean was a grease monkey, a high school dropout, and an emotional mess. Maybe it was so easy to believe that Cas wanted someone else because he really didn't get why Cas would settle for him.

"Dean!" Sam's voice snapped him out of his stupor. "So? Are you just going to let him walk away?"

Cas was gone. He had walked out Sam's front door.

Dean grabbed his head with both hands, "Shit, Sam, maybe he's better off."

"Don't, Dean, just… don't. He loves you. He'd be better off if you got out there talked to him."

Sam was right. For whatever reason, Cas did love him and he realized with sudden clarity that he wasn't about to let that go. He loved Cas, too! Dean took off after his angel at a run. He found Cas walking down the sidewalk just a couple houses away, talking on his cell phone ordering a cab. He grabbed the phone out of Cas' hand to his protest and told the taxi dispatcher that he didn't need a ride and hung up.

"Dean, what are-"

"Cas, I'm so sorry! I'm an ass. I didn't mean what I said at the wedding and I can't believe I ever thought you would cheat on me. I told Bobby and Ellen about us and, fuck, it felt so good! And if you want a white picket fence and a bunch of babies and a damn dog, I'm in. I'll put up a freaking heart shaped picture of us in my office if you want. I don't care. I choose you, Cas! I choose _freedom_, fuck peace! I just know that I was miserable without you and your damn blue eyes and your nerdiness and you missing all of my references and -"

Cas grabbed Dean with both hands on the sides of his face and pulled him into a searing kiss. Dean froze for a moment; eyes wide open shocked at the sudden kiss, but quickly began to respond in full, wrapping has arms around Cas' waist as Cas brought up a hand to (finally) thread his fingers through that wet hair. The kiss was passionate and said a thousand things that words hadn't.

Sam whistled from his place on his front step and when Dean heard it, he smiled into the kiss and fist pumped the air.

When Dean pulled back he could see that Cas was laughing. Cas had tears pooling in his eyes that were threatening to make Dean emotional too. Luckily, Cas chose that moment to tell Dean, "I don't need the house and the kids, just you. And I'm sorry I pushed you. We can take it slow and tell people when you are ready. Thank you, though, for telling your family."

"I don't want to keep this a secret anymore. You were right, that's bullshit! I'm proud to be with you, Cas, and I don't ever want you to feel like I'm not. 'Cause… I fucking love you, OK?!"

And now there was no stopping the tears that had pooled in Cas' eyes. They overflowed and Cas smiled at Dean through them. Dean felt his heart catch at the sight of that smile, blue eyes boring right into him through those dark lashes. God, he loved this man so much it hurt! Dean cupped Cas' jaw and wiped a tear away with his thumb and brought his forehead to Cas', whispering, "Don't cry, baby. I'll fix this. I'm so sorry. I never want to make you sad again."

"It's OK, Dean. I just thought I had lost you and it nearly broke my heart and now you're here and you love me and-"

Dean leaned in and kissed the words from Cas' tongue. He could taste the saltiness of his lover's tears and his heart ached for the pain that he had caused his angel. He was overwhelmed by the sensation of having this man in his arms, mouths moving as one, bodies lined up perfectly, Cas' arms around his neck and hands threading through his hair.

And when he heard Cas let out a soft whimper, his body reacted with its own memory and he groaned, "Cas, we need to take this somewhere else or Sam's neighbors are going to be traumatized by what I do to you next."

Cas laughed and grabbed Dean's hand, pulling him back towards Sam's house. Dean was still barefoot with no keys on him, but, because Sam pretty much rocked, he hollered to Dean, "Hey, head's up," and tossed Dean's keys to him as they passed through the front yard. Dean caught them with his free hand and hopped into the Impala, shoes forgotten as he leaned into Cas for a deep kiss before taking off towards home.

They stumbled through the door of Dean's apartment, unable to keep their hands off of one other. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Castiel found himself thrust against it as Dean positively growled, "Fuck! I missed you so bad, Cas."

Dean already had his knee nudged between Cas' legs and Cas was pressing into Dean urgently. "I couldn't breathe without you. I love you so much, Dean."

Dean leaned back and looked at his lover. Cas' head was thrown back against the door, eyes half lidded and dark with desire. But he was looking at Dean with that fucking adoration that kind always made him squirm a little. It was too much. How could Cas still look at him like that after everything? And Dean decided that he would willingly spend the rest of his life trying to earn that look from Cas.

"God, Cas, I love you too. I'm so sorry I hurt you and I promise, I'm going to fix this and make you happy."

Castiel cupped Dean's face between his hands and brought their foreheads together. "Dean, stop apologizing. We both had fault, but we'll fix it _together_. As I recall, we are pretty good at that." And he kissed his lover, slow and soft and full of meaning, his arms resting easily around Dean's shoulders.

Dean was the first to break the kiss, leaning back and taking Castiel's hand after it trailed down the length of his arm. He led his lover to the bedroom and stopped in front of the bed to turn around and face Castiel. His fingers trailed from the corner of his blue eye, around the curve of his jaw and down the front of his neck, until they reached their goal and began working off the man's tie. Dean's hands were shaking just the slightest bit with nerves.

It had been a long time since he had been nervous with Cas but somehow, after their separation, he felt wary, like this moment was bigger, more important than before. And it was. He felt that they had crossed a boarder, that their relationship was changed because of what they had gone through and he had finally been able to tell Cas how much he loved him. He slowly worked his way down Cas' buttons as he nibbled sweet kisses behind his ear, taking his time to make this night perfect for his lover.

Castiel closed his eyes and quietly whimpered when Dean finally had his shirts off and traced his hands over his bared chest and up his neck until he pulled Castiel to his mouth with both hands. God, the hot, wet slide of slick lips together was perfect and when their tongues met Dean couldn't hold in his own groan. He continued exploring Cas' mouth but moved his hands down his back to pull their hips together, slotting their bodies perfectly so that they could both feel each other's hardness.

He was now desperate for Cas, he couldn't remember a time in his life that he wanted to make love to anyone so badly. And when Cas rubbed the palm of his hand down Dean's erection it felt like heaven. The two men immediately began a rushed effort to get their pants off and blend together skin touching skin.

Dean laughed as he pulled Cas down, tumbling onto the bed together with Cas on his back and Dean, propped on an elbow leaning over him, stroking his cock, feeling it harden more and more under his attention. When Cas threw his head back and moaned, Dean chuckled, "What, Cas, miss this?"

"Mmmm, yes. I missed _you_, Dean." Castiel opened his eyes and placed his hand solidly on Dean's cheek, forcing their eyes to lock and Dean became lost. Cas had a way of looking not at him but into him and for some reason this time it didn't make him uncomfortable or scared and he didn't want to look away. That look felt like home, where Cas and he could be each other's safe place.

"I missed you too. Damn, I don't want to ever be without you again."

"You never will be," Castiel assured Dean as he pulled him down and between his legs so that their bodies were aligned perfectly, erections slotted together and arms and legs locked around one another's bodies.

Dean groaned and rolled his hips, causing Cas to suck in a sharp breath and begin moving together with him. Dean groped around with a free hand until he finally found the table drawer and grabbed the lube, breaking away from Castiel's kiss to sit back on his knees and lube his fingers before reaching through Castiel's legs to massage his perineum. He took his time teasing and stroking his entrance, enjoying watching his lover become more and more desperate. Cas was so beautiful like this, when he let go of that control he usually held so tight to and just let Dean take him anywhere.

Watching Cas writhe and arch his back and hearing the wrecked gravel in his voice as he growled, "Dean, please," was glorious and Dean gave the man more as he slid a finger inside of Cas' most sensitive spot, feeling how tight he had become after weeks apart. Dean moaned at the mere thought of burying himself in Cas and drowning in the feeling of being surrounded by his tight lover.

His other hand was stroking Cas' cock and spreading the pre-come around the head and he could no longer hold off, lowering his head and taking Cas' into his mouth, feeling the heavy swell of the head on his tongue and tasting the saltiness of his come as he sucked him off and worked him open at the same time. Two fingers then three, swirling inside of Castiel, brushing against his prostate over and over and Dean's mouth working him furiously overwhelmed him in pleasure and all he could think and feel was Dean and love, and pleasure, and Dean! White ecstasy washed over him as he arched into the bliss and rode the wave until there was nothing.

When he came back to awareness, he opened his eyes and Dean was hovering over him, an inch away from his face, whispering words of love between gentle kisses on his cheek, temple, jaw, the corner of his lips. It took a moment for Castiel to focus and when he could he was sorry that he had missed one word of what Dean had said. "Dean, tell me again."

"I love you," Dean whispered, just barely audible.

Dean shifted his body and Castiel could feel him at his entrance. He watched Dean's face as he entered him and soaked in the look in his eyes as Dean became surrounded in the pleasure that Cas could give him. Dean's face was stripped naked of all masks and now Castiel could see the love, adoration, and awe that was shared between them. The men rocked their bodies together, melting into one until there was nothing in the world but Dean and Cas and this moment and they came together, bodies and hearts dancing in perfect time with one another.

* * *

That night, Dean awoke to a cold sweat, shaking from the nightmare. Cas immediately pulled his lover into his arms whispering comforting words until his breathing had returned to normal. "Dean, will you tell me?"

Dean hesitated. He hated reliving that day but he knew he had to. He knew he needed to share this with Cas, who deserved to know the truth. He rolled over so that his back was to Cas. Maybe he could tell him, but he didn't see the look of disappointment in the man's eyes when he learned what Dean had done. Cas moved right behind him and wrapped an arm around his middle. Dean found his hand and pressed it to his own chest. Cas nuzzled the back of Dean's neck and whispered, "It's OK, Dean, whenever you are ready."

"The dream was about the sandbox, but I guess you knew that. I'd been there over a year but, you know time seems to be different there. God, it felt more like 40 years! We had to travel to Kandahar a lot. From our base into town we traveled down this beat up highway that we used to jokingly call the Highway to Hell. We'd even sometimes blast AC/DC on the way there to pump ourselves up if we needed some motivation.

"This one day, we got a lead on some insurgents holed up in an old factory that were recruiting boys, like 14 and 15 year olds, and teaching them to make bombs. They were going to turn these kids into suicide bombers. We were headed in and I took point and I got us inside the building when we were ambushed from behind. They killed my squad leader and injured my commo. But we got 'em. There were just three of them. Two of them couldn't have been 16 years old.

"One of the kids was killed in the fight. We captured the other one and the leader. We should have taken them right back to the MPs. They were EPWs and, you know, there's rules. But it was chaos. The men were flipping their shit when Sergeant Turner was killed. He was a great leader and everyone loved him. And I should have stopped it, but I didn't. I was so angry and full of rage and adrenaline. We tied those two up and we hurt them. We told ourselves it was an interrogation but they didn't know anything, they were just foot soldiers.

"We tortured them, punched them and cut them until they were crying. They were actually fucking crying. Cas, I wanted to kill them. I wanted revenge for Rufus. I had turned into something terrible. And we left them there, bloody and broken. We couldn't take them with us like that but I stopped short of killing them. Maybe I should have.

"So, just a couple of weeks later we had to head back to Hell and we got caught in a firefight. I lost good men. We walked right into a trap and there was an explosion. I was hit along with three others. The youngest was this kid, Adam Milligan who was just 19, couldn't have been in for more than a year. I tried to help them and get them out but we outnumbered. And you know, I saw that kid that we tortured, he was there fighting against us. It was my fault, if I had been strong enough to stop the torture or even to kill them it wouldn't have happened and they would be alive. I don't remember much after that. I was just shooting at everything and it was all chaos. It's a day I can't get out of my head. March 18, 2009."

Cas gasped. He recognized that date. It was forever etched in his mind. The day Balthazar died. He had been on a mission that day… to Kandahar! The memory flooded back of pulling a screaming man away from his men, still laying down cover fire as he was laid out bleeding on the litter. He didn't want to go until all of his men were out. He was covered in blood, both his own and others from trying to drag them out of the line of fire. A hundred images flashed through his mind as the hidden memories came flooding back. And now Cas could see it clearly in his mind. Dean!

Cas sat up onto his elbow so that he could see Dean's face. He put a hand under Dean's chin to turn his face toward him. "Dean, I was there with you that day. I remember. It was you that I pulled from the battle and evaced."

Dean met Cas' eyes. He had feared judgment but what he saw was nothing but acceptance and love. "Cas, you pulled me out of hell?" Cas nodded and smiled. "My mother was right. There really were angels watching over me… you! Cas, you really are my angel."


	21. Epilogue

Author's Note 9/10 - I am so sorry about the posting spam. I tried to correct a grammatical error that I found in chapter 7 and it screwed up the order of all of the rest of the chapters so I had to delete and repost everything from chapter 7 on. There isn't any new content, just corrected grammar and wording.

* * *

6 Years Later

Castiel stood beside his young student, who was holding his hand, bouncing up and down in her Mary Janes and crossing her chubby fingers. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she mumbled her silent prayer. Castiel gave her hand a little squeeze and reassured her, "You did amazing, sweetie. I am so proud of you, no matter what."

The little girl looked up at him and smiled. Castiel thought she looked so much like her mother, with her blonde curls and heart shaped face, but she had Sam's kind eyes. "Uncle Cas, what if we lose?"

"So we lose," Castiel said with a shrug. "Olivia, did you have fun?"

"Uh huh!" She nodded enthusiastically.

"Then you've already won. Look over there at your family. They are so proud of you no matter where you place." Castiel nodded over to the table in the audience where the rest of their family was sitting, beaming at the little dancer. Sam was holding Jess' hand and on his hip sat a little boy of two with floppy brown hair that nearly covered his big hazel eyes. Sam was trying his best to keep the rambunctious toddler quiet, but he was getting bored and Castiel could see that Robbie wasn't going to have patience much longer.

Bobby and Ellen were sitting next to them beaming like typical proud grandparents. Ellen had taken hundreds of pictures and Castiel smiled inward at the sight of Bobby in a suit. He knew that there must have been lots of grumbling and complaining to get him dressed up for the occasion.

Jo and her most recent beau were just returning from the bar with Charlie and her girlfriend, Gilda, carrying an extra drink to put in front of Dean. He smiled at the man, but Dean didn't see him. He wasn't looking at Castiel. His eyes were focused on the bundle in his arms; their daughter. The adoption had gone well and for the last few months that they had been parents, Dean couldn't take his eyes off the child. He was in love the moment that Anna was placed in his arms.

The announcer, however, did get his attention and he looked up when he heard, "The combined score for Olivia Winchester being instructed by Castiel Krushnic is… eight point nine."

Olivia screamed and jumped into Castiel's arms. It was enough for second place overall in her age group. Castiel hugged her back, this little girl who had taken to him and formed a special bond with her uncle from the time she was an infant. Practically as soon as she could walk she wanted to dance and Castiel was more than willing to teach her.

The Winchester table erupted, all of them jumping to their feet and cheering for Olivia. She ran over, dragging Castiel with her, to the waiting arms of her mother. Castiel gave Jess a kiss on the cheek then turned to Dean, who was beaming at him. He placed a hand on Anna's head and leaned over her to give Dean a heartfelt kiss.

Dean smiled back at Cas, "You did amazing with 'Liv. Man, that kid is crazy about you."

"The feeling is quite mutual. How has Anna been?" He said and leaned down to place his lips on the sleeping girl's forehead.

"An angel, like her father," Dean smiled at Cas. God, he loved that man. They'd been together six years now and he still got butterflies in his stomach when he looked at Cas. He had been stunning today on that dance floor. Dean had watched, enraptured, as Cas and Pamela had competed together, knocking dance pair after dance pair out of the competition. He was reminded of the first time he saw his partner dance. He knew that there was never any going back for him after he had watched that very first dance. He was in love.

Watching Cas command a dance floor, his body moving with perfect grace and rhythm with such strength and leadership did something to his insides and he couldn't wait to get his lover home so that he could enjoy feeling that body move with his own, Cas' hands and hips and tongue guiding him in their own lover's tango. But there was something he needed to do first.

Once the awards ceremony was over, the mood in the competition hall changed as the after-party reception began. Castiel sat at the table and looked around in satisfaction. Everyone he loved was here and he reflected upon how his life had changed. A few years ago, he didn't know that any of these people existed. Now, Dean and all of the people who orbited around him, had become his life.

Bobby and Ellen had accepted him as one of their own instantly, well almost instantly. Ellen had made sure to pull him aside the first family dinner that they attended and warn him that if he hurt Dean she would hunt him down and they wouldn't find the body. Bobby hadn't said anything but stood leaning against the doorway behind Ellen, arms crossed and giving Castiel a look that said he was completely in agreement with Ellen's warnings. After that, she pulled him into a warm hug and welcomed him into the family. Now, Ellen was twirling around on the dance floor with Jo's boyfriend and Bobby, the big softy, was cooing over Anna as the baby giggled while feeling the prickly texture of his beard.

Sam and Jess had treated him as family almost immediately and Castiel can still remember how touched he felt the first time Sam introduced Castiel as his brother-in-law. Sam and Castiel shared something important; they both loved Dean fiercely. And now they shared a special bond with Sam's daughter, who had both of them pretty much wrapped around her little finger. He smiled as he looked across the table to where Jess was sitting with Robbie falling asleep on her shoulder sucking his thumb. Sam was dancing with his daughter. Although she was pretty skilled for a six year old, she still preferred, when dancing with her daddy, to stand on Sam's feet.

Charlie and Gilda were swinging each other around on the dance floor. Jess' best friend had become a part of the family and it was Charlie who had introduced the Winchesters to what had become a favorite family tradition, the Moondoor LARP battle each summer.

Castiel thought about how different their lives had become. He and Dean had worked hard to build a life for themselves. When he had first met Dean, he was still grieving the loss of Balthazar. He wasn't really living but just surviving in a sort of animated state. Dean had swept in, inspired him to deal with his past and helped him claim back everything that was important to him. Dean had helped Castiel get his wings back and changed his life for the better in so many ways.

And Dean, when they had met, had been struggling with PTSD, wracked by nightmares and anxiety. Once he had opened up to Castiel about his experience, though, those both began to subside. Over time, Dean had shared more and more of his pain with Castiel, freeing him from the heavy burden of carrying it alone. The journey certainly hadn't been easy but Castiel had to smile at the thought of the change in Dean since then. The man he loved was now content, having come to terms with the pain of his past, from his father and unconventional upbringing to the horrors of war.

The roads they had both travelled in their lives had been difficult and broken, the journey painful and long. But that road had led them to each other and they had clung to that lifeline and blazed a new path for themselves. And their journey was far from over. They've had their share of difficult times, fought over everything from leaving the cap off the toothpaste to decisions about growing their family. But Castiel knew that he wouldn't trade a moment of his life with Dean for anything.

Castiel had continued to fly a few times a month, testing aircraft and reveling in the elation of floating above the earth. He had even gotten Dean up in the air once or twice, but usually Dean preferred to spend those days working around the house – _their_ house. About a year ago, they had rented out Castiel's apartment to Pamela and purchased a little red brick three-bedroom bungalow that had needed just enough work that they could transform it, room by room, making the house their home. The first thing that Dean had insisted upon was to lay hardwood in the finished basement so that Castiel had a place to dance. They had made love on that floor the first day it was installed, slow and sweet, exhausted and sweaty from the hard work but too happy to care.

More recently they had been working on preparing their home to welcome Anna. The little girl had been such a gift. He smiled just thinking about how in love with her Dean was. Castiel's favorite thing had become standing in the doorway of the nursery, listening to Dean sing her to sleep. _Hey Jude_ was always a favorite because that's what his mother had sung to him.

As he thought about Dean, he looked around and wondered where the man had wondered off to. He had handed to Anna to Bobby a few minutes ago and disappeared. Castiel hoped he was at the bar getting drinks. He was ready for a refill. Then he heard a familiar voice come over the loud speakers.

"Um, can I have your attention? My name is Dean Winchester and I am here today to support my niece, Liv and my partner, Cas. And, uh, thanks to the band here for letting me borrow the mic for what I want to say next."

Castiel sat stunned, wondering what on earth Dean was up to. Dean shifted nervously on the stage with all eyes in the ballroom focused on him.

"OK, so, Cas, I wanted to say that you are the most amazing person I have ever met. And, I know this is a little backwards because our daughter is sitting over there on her grandpa's lap, but it's never too late, right? Castiel, you saved me in every possible way… and I love you and… oh hell, will you marry me?" Dean pulled a solid band out of his pocket and jumped off the stage, holding it out as he approached Castiel, who hadn't moved from the spot.

Castiel stood up and walked to Dean, meeting him in the middle of the dance floor. "Of course I will marry you, Dean. And for the record, we saved each other."

Dean slid the band onto his fiancé's finger and leaned forward to kiss him as the crowd erupted into applause. The band began to play _All of My Love_ and Dean whispered low into Castiel's ear, "They're playing our song, angel. Dance with me?" He snaked his arms around Cas' waist as the two began to sway until their bodies moved as one, both eager to continue their journey down the unpredictable road of life together.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to every reader that traveled down this road with me. Writing this fanfic has really been a labor of love and your words of encouragement have been so helpful and inspiring - you just don't know! Your comments have helped me to become a better writer and for that I am thankful.

I have loved sharing my passion for these characters and hope that their story has touched you as it has me.


End file.
